University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


0     UPTtt       S       ^"^    ( 

,<  ^ 


n  ft . 


BOND  m  FKEE; 


A  TRUE  TALE  OF  SLAVE  TIMES. 


BY 


JAS.  H.  W.  HOWARD, 

Late  Editor  of  the  State  Journal. 


HA.RRISBUKG: 

EDWIN  K.  MEYERS,  PBINTEB  AND   BINDEB. 

1886. 


Copyrighted  by 
JAS.  H.  W.  HOWARD, 


Electrotyped  by  EDWIN  K.  MEYERS. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  THE  MAXWELL  FAMILY, 5 

II.  ANOTHER  FAMILY, 15 

III.  THE  BARGAIN, 28 

IV.  THE  WEDDING, 47 

V.  A  BAD  START, 52 

VI.  THE  ESCAPE, 61 

VII.  ATTACKED, '  .    73 

VIII.  Two  HAPPY  FATHERS, 84 

IX.  A  NOVEL  STAKE, 95 

X.  THE  WIFE'S  EETURN,    .......  104 

XL  THE  SEPARATION, ..Ill 

XII.  ANOTHER  CLASS  OF  SLAVES,     .   .    .    .124 

XIII.  THE  FUGITIVES,      134 

XIV.  PUPIL  AND  TEACHER, 146 

XV.  THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER, 171 

XVI.  A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE, 200 

XVII.  THE  TEACHER  AND  PUPIL  CROSS  THE 

LINE, 221 

XVIII.  WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM,  .    .  240 
XIX.  UNITED  IN  FREEDOM, 265 


PREFACE. 


In  presenting  this,  my  first  book,  to  the  public,  I 
crave  indulgence  for  whatever  errors  it  may  contain. 
The  incidents  related  are  true,  while  the  adventures 
of  the  fugitives,  in  their  escape  from  slavery,  are  ac- 
tual facts  related  by  persons  well  known  to  me,  some 
of  them  closely  related,  and  for  whose  veracity  I  can 
safely  vouch.  Many  of  the  events  of  this  tale  will 
recall  to  the  minds  of  not  a  few  some  of  their  own 
experiences,  or  the  experience  of  relatives  or  friends 
as  often  rehearsed  to  them.  I  have  no  desire  to  cre- 
ate or  revive  any  animosity  on  the  part  of  those  who 
have  survived  the  cruelties  of  slavery,  but  as  one  of 
that  race,  now  struggling  for  a  position  in  the  Nation 
which  once  refused  to  recognize  their  manhood,  I 
trust  I  shall  not  be  harshly  censured  for  depicting  a 
few  of  the  milder  forms  of  treatment  to  which  the 
negro  was  subjected  while  enslaved. 

In  commenting  upon  the  cruelties  of  slavery,  I 
have  endeavored  to  suppress  all  rancorous  feeling 
which  would  naturally  arise  in  the  bosom  of  one  so 
closely  identified  with  the  race,  remembering  that  this 


PREFACE. 

book  is  for  the  reading  public,  and  not  intended  to 
offend  any  one.  Should  I,  therefore,  at  any  time,  ap- 
pear hypercritical,  attribute  it  to  the  over-powering 
sympathy  which  might  possibly  have  guided  my  pen. 
Hoping  that  you  may  be  amply  compensated  for 
the  moments  spent  in  perusing  these  lines, 

I  remain,  yours  gratefully, 

The  AUTHOR. 


BOND  AND  FREE 


A  TRUE  TALE  OF  SLAVE  DAYS. 
CHAPTER  L 

4 

THE  MAXWELL  FAMILY. 

Harwood  Maxwell  was  one  of  that  class  of  men 
common  in  his  day,  but  perhaps  differing,  in  many 
essential  particulars,  from  his  surrounding  neigh- 
bors. There  was  not  a  better  known  man  in 

county ,  Virginia,  than  Harwood  Maxwell. 

To  say  that  he  was  eccentric,  would,  perhaps,  be  tak  • 
ing  too  great  a  liberty  with  the  acquaintance  I  had  with 
him ;  but  to  say  he  was  not  peculiar,  would  not  give 
an  accurate  or  truthful  description  of  him.  His 
peculiarities,  however,  were  not  of  a  disagreeable 
nature,  but  were  those  of  a  man  who  saw  fit  to  differ 
in  many  respects  from  a  long  line  of  antecedents. 
Harwood  Maxwell  was  a  true  Virginian  in  every 
sense  of  the  word ;  his  grandfather  was  among  its 
earliest  settlers,  and  was  one  of  those  who  infused 
much  of  the  spirit  of  independence  into  the  colonies, 
and  battled  so  strongly  against  the  iron  rule  of 
his  mother-country.  Notwithstanding  the  princi- 
ples of  his  forefathers,  Harwood  Maxwell  soon 
became  distinguished  for  his  favoritism  to  King 

[5] 


6  BOND   AND    FREE 

George.  Nor  did  the  fact  of  his  settlement  in  this, 
one  among  the  first  colonies  to  oppose  the  tyrannical 
rule  of  His  Majesty,  and  to  sever  all  allegiance  to  the 
crown,  interfere  in  the  least  with  his  love  for  his 
sovereign. 

This  colony  is  dear  to  the  American  heart  because 
of  having  rendered  so  invaluable  a  service  in  the  cause 
of  American  Independence,  through  its  illustrious 
son.  When  I  assert  that  Harwood  Maxwell  was  a  true 
Virginian,  perhaps  I  ought  to  make  an  exception  upon 
this  one  point,  but  having  already  said  that  he  was 
peculiar,  let  his  peculiarities  answer  for  any  apparent 
inconsistencies  his  nature  may  have  betrayed.  The 
name  of  Maxwell  was  an  old  one,  and  great  pride  was 
taken  in  this  fact.  Harwood's  father  had  possessed 
a  large  estate,  which  had  been  transmitted  to  his  son, 
not  without  some  incumbrance  nor  with  as  many 
acres  as  when  it  came  into  the  father's  possession,  for 
as  generation  followed  generation,  so  followed  a  de- 
crease in  the  vast  acres.  This,  of  course,  primarily 
depreciated  the  value  of  the  estate  as  it  was  handed 
from  father  to  son.  The  sons  evidently  were  not  as 
successful  in  their  management  as  were  their  fathers ; 
nevertheless,  the  estate  still  abounded  in  good  stock, 
consisting  of  men,  women,  and  other  beasts  of  burden ; 
and  the  acres  that  were  left  were  fertile  and  well 
cultivated.  Mr.  Maxwell  was  married  several  years 
before  he  had  an  heir.  Fortune  at  last  favored  him 
with  a  son  on  whom  he  lavished  all  the  attention 
a  kind,  indulgent,  and  wealthy  father  could  lavish 


THE    MAXWELL   FAMILY.  7 

upon  his  only  offspring.  His  son,  Jonathan,  grew 
to  be  a  bright,  intelligent  man,  such  a  man  as  a  father 
could  feel  justly  proud  of,  such  a  son  as  Ear  wood 
Maxwell  wished  for,  hoped  for,  and  prayed  for. 

At  last,  the  impartial  sickle  of  death  came  along  and 
relentlessly  removed  Harwood  Maxwell  from  this 
mundane  sphere,  and  Jonathan  became  sole  possessor 
of  all  the  Maxwell  estate,  including  men,  women,  and 
all  other  goods  and  chattels.  Jonathan  was  a  man, 
in  many  respects,  similar  to  his  father ;  he  had  been 
fondly  indulged,  always  having  numerous  servants  to 
attend  his  every  wish,  and  as  he  sat  and  reflected  upon 
what  he  must  do  in  the  future,  his  fine,  handsome 
face  was  lighted  up  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  for 
he  realized  that  he  had  under  his  entire  control 
hundreds  of  acres  of  richly  cultivated  soil,  a  great 
number  of  human  beings,  whose  sweat  and  labor,  as 
well  as  their  blood,  had  been  the  means  of  enriching 
the  very  soil  which  he  now  possessed.  He  was  im- 
bued with  all  of  those  ideas  characteristic  of  the  true 
Southern  gentlemen,  whose  education  taught  them 
that  labor  was  degrading,  and  who  did  not  believe 
in  that  part  of  his  country's  law  which  declared  "  all 
men  were  born  free  and  equal."  He  had  married 
into  one  of  those  aristocratic  Southern  families  more 
noted  for  their  family  respectability  than  their  wealth, 
and  who,  being  the  possessors  of  a  small  estate  with 
only  a  few  human  beings  as  subjects,  made  life  a 
veritable  hell  for  those  few,  and  extracted  from  them 
all  the  labor  they  were  capable  of  performing.  A 


8  BOND    AND    FREE. 

man  reared  as  Jonathan  Maxwell,  being  the  worthy 
son  of  a  sire  noted  for  his  peculiarities,  while  he  pos- 
sessed some  of  the  same  traits  of  his  father,  was 
strong  in  his  own  individuality.  He  had  reached  an 
age  when  liberty  of  thought  took  a  wide  range  with 
him,  and  the  points  in  his  character  were  clearly 
displayed.  He  believed  that  all  men  had  distinctive 
relations;  that  inordinate  principles  decreed  that  white 
was  born  to  rule  and  black  to  be  ruled.  He  believed 
that  his  betters  were  unborn  and  his  equals  were  few. 
^Having  been  over-indulged,  he  was,  of  course,  greatly 
spoiled.  So  assertive  was  he  in  his  views  that  he 
almost  denied  himself  that  contact  with  the  world, 
which  draws  men  out.  He  was  almost  absolutely 
wrapped  up  in  himself,  being  entirely  unanimous 
upon  the  infallibility  of  his  own  conceptions.  He 
hated  the  world  because  concession  was  not  generally 
given  to  his  haughty  ideas,  and  because  he  realized 
his  inability  to  flog  the  world  into  agreement ;  he 
never  hesitated  to  crack  the  whip  of  authority  over 
the  heads  and  upon  the  backs  of  those  around  him. 
His  society  was  much  sought  for  because  it  was  ex- 
clusive, and  it  afforded  him  great  pleasure  when  he 
beheld  his  fellow-man  writhing  in  the  throes  of  dis- 
tress. Some  people  said  that  he  was  a  cruel  master; 
others  said  that  he  was  very  exacting,  but  not  cruel. 
His  wife  was  one  of  those  handsome  Southern  beau- 
ties, indolent  to  a  fault,  and  whose  ideas  regarding  our 
unfortunate  race  were  strictly  in  accord  with  those  of 
her  husband,  and  yet,  if  anything,  far  worse.  Jona- 


THE    MAXWELL    FAMILY.  9 

than  had  one  thing  in  his  nature  that  none  of  the 
long  line  of  Maxwells  was  ever  known  to  possess; 
that  was  an  inordinate  desire  to  increase  his  posses- 
sions. He  was  a  man  with  few  scruples,  consequently, 
nothing  stood  in  the  way  of  his  acquiring  more  wealth. 
His  plantations  were  all  in  good  condition,  his  human 
cattle  fat  and  sleek.  The  latter,  though  worked  hard, 
were  well  quartered  and  well  fed.  This,  of  course, 
made  them  prolific,  and,  in  fact,  many  of  them  were 
kept  upon  the  estate  on  account  of  their  breeding- 
qualities. 

Things  worked  along  upon  the  Maxwell  estate 
with  an  evenness  never  before  known;  but  the 
master  became  more  and  more  exacting,  and  the 
poor  subjects  more  and  more  depressed.  The  field 
hands,  of  course,  felt  none  of  this  hard  grinding,  be- 
cause their  lot  was  unchanged.  Bill  Lewis,  the  over- 
seer, still  held  his  position  under  his  new  master,  and, 
as  he  was  evidently  a  reader  of  human  nature,  as- 
sisted, no  doubt,  by  his  long  service  with  the  Max- 
wells, he  knew  that  no  matter  how  hard  he  drove  nor 
how  severely  he  whipped,  his  employer  would  be 
satisfied,  so  long  as  good  returns  were  the  result.  Over 
the  house  servants  Lewis  had  no  control,  but  he  had 
often  compelled  many  of  them  to  submit  to  his  hellish 
and  brutish  designs,  and  the  features  of  several  pick- 
ininnies  about  the  plantation  bore  a  striking  resem- 
blance to  his  low,  ill-bred  countenance. 

Among  Jonathan  Maxwell's  house  servants  was  a 
woman  who,  had  she  not  have  had  the  traces  of  Afri- 


10  BOND   AND    FREE. 

can  blood  in  her  veins,  and  had  she  been  reared  with 
half  the  care  with  which  Mrs.  Maxwell,  her  mistress, 
I  had,  would  have  been  an  ornament  to  any  society,  and 
'.  put  to  blush  many  so-called  Southern  beauties.  She 
was  a  woman  about  two  or  three  and  twenty  years  of 
age,  beautiful  in  form,  her  features  were  as  delicate  and 
chaste  as  a  lady  bred  in  luxury  and  refinement;  her 
long  black  tresses  were  of  silken  glossiness ;  her  car- 
riage and  bearing  were  characterized  by  both  dignity 
and  grace.  This  woman,  possessed  of  all  the  attractive- 
ness which  nature  could  bestow,  was  what?  No 
more  than  a  mere  thing,  apiece  of  goods,  a  mere  chattel, 
with  a  price  upon  her  head,  a  commodity  that  could 
be  bought  or  sold,  with  no  protection  for  her  virtue, 
and  whose  beauty  only  made  her  the  more  valuable 
in  the  eyes  of  some  brute  whose  lust  urged  him  to  bid 
a  higher  price  for  her  possession.  This  woman  by  na- 
ture, whatever  else  by  law,  bore  a  marked  resemblance 
to  Jonathan  Maxwell.  He  knew  it ;  his  wife  did  not 
fail  to  notice  it,  and  Purcey,  for  such  was  the  name 
she  bore,  also  recognized  the  likeness  herself.  She 
not  only  resembled  her  young  master  in  countenance, 
but  there  were  many  things  about  her  which  showed 
unmistakable  evidence  of  Maxwell  blood,  Maxwell 
pride,  and  Maxwell  cleverness. 

Before  the  death  of  Harwood  Maxwell,  Purcey  had 
enjoyed  many  liberties  denied  the  other  servants.  She 
was  petted,  cajoled,  well  dressed,  even  richly  so  at 
times,  and,  except  addressing  her  master  as  ^'massa" 
and  her  mistress  as  "  missa,"  she  hardly  realized  her  ig- 


THE    MAXWELL   FAMILY.  11 

nominious  position.  By  some  means,  she  had  hoarded 
up  quite  a  little  sum  of  money,  and  had  been  shrewd 
enough  to  pick  up  a  smattering  of  learning  from  hear- 
ing Jonathan  going  over  his  lessons  with  his  tutor.  She 
increased  her  little  savings  of  money,  and  improved 
her  learning,  all  of  which  she  concealed  from  every  one. 
Purcey's  mother  was,  and  had  been  for  years,  the  cook 
of  the  Maxwell  family.  She  was  a  woman  with  traces 
of  Indian  blood  in  her  veins,  but  how  she  became  a 
slave,  history  does  not  record.  History  does  record, 
however,  how  Harwood  Maxwell  bought  a  very  beau- 
tiful negress  at  a  sale  while  on  a  trip  to  the  New 
Orleans  slave  market,  brought  her  home  to  his  inva- 
lid wife,  and  how,  in  a  short  time,  this  beautiful  slave 
woman  gave  birth  to  a  child  which  was  more  beauti- 
ful than  the  mother.  Owing  to  its  fair  complexion 
and  its  close  resemblance  to  Mars  Harwood,  there 
was  no  room  to  doubt  nor  was  it  difficult  to  trace  the 
father.  There  was  an  unusual  amount  of  human 
feeling  evinced  by  Harwood  Maxwell  for  this  woman 
and  child.  He  was  unlike  thousands  of  his  kind,  who 
ill-treated  and  sold  their  flesh  and  blood — a  sin  he 
did  not  have  to  answer  for.  He  neither  abused,  nor 
allowed  to  be  abused,  the  mother  or  the  daughter. 
This  is  why  Purcey  grew  up  into  womanhood  with 
all  of  the  spirit  of  one  born  a  free  being. 

Whenever  Jonathan's  mother,  for  years  an  invalid, 
demanded  her  husband  to  sell  or  dispose  in  some  way  of 
this  child  and  its  mother,  an  eye-sore  to  her,  she  was  met 
with  such  a  response  from  him  as  invariably  brought 


12  BOND    AND    FKEE. 

on  convulsions,  "her   request   never   being  complied 
with. 

Before  her  death,  she  called  her  son  to  her  bed- 
side and  taught  him  to  hate  Elva  and  her  daughter, 
Purcey,  without  revealing  to  him  his  father's  perfidy. 
Jonathan  had  not  forgotten  his  mother's  death- bed 
instructions,  though  he  had  given  her  no  intimation 
that  he  would  follow  them.  In  fact,  while  he  could 
consistently  hate  his  half-sister,  nothing  could  in- 
duce him  to  dispose  of  his  property,  except  the  pros- 
pect of  pecuniary  gain.  Elva  was  also  the  mother 
of  four  other  children,  two  boys  and  two  girls.  They 
were  of  a  type  entirely  different  from  Purcey,  their 
father  being  a  full-blooded  Negro.  Consequently, 
their  features  bore  all  the  marks  of  the  race.  Elo, 
whom  I  will  hereafter  describe,  was  the  youngest  of 
the  four.  Emeline  was  of  a  brown-skin  hue,  with 
thick  lips,  stubborn  hair,  and  very  coarse  features. 
The  boys  were  both  sturdy,  manly  fellows,  each 
worth  fifteen  hundred  dollars  to  his  master.  With 
that  feeling  born  of  slavery,  Emeline  cordially  hated 
Purcey ;  first,  because,  as  she  termed  it,  "  she  was  half 
white  and  stuck  up ;  "  second,  because  of  the  natural 
animosity  borne  by  all  field  hands  toward  all  house 
servants.  Jonathan  Maxwell  did  not  want  to  sell 
Purcey,  as  she  was  his  wife's  maid,  and  that  lady, 
with  that  attachment  a  mistress  has  for  a  pet  dog,  or 
bird,  did  not  want  her  removed.  Purcey's  beauty 
never  made  her  foolish.  She  had  a  natural  pride, 
but  never  forgot  her  duty  to  her  mistress.  Ever 


THE    MAXWELL    FAMILY.  13 

ready  and  willing  to  obey  the  slightest  command,  yet 
her  sensitive  nature  secretly  resisted  imposition.  Mrs. 
Maxwell  had  exceedingly  aggravating  ways,  and,  on 
one  occasion,  her  overbearing  manner  incurred  open 
resentment  from  Purcey,  which  that  lady  never  forgot. 

Mrs.  Maxwell  had,  in  this  instance,  upon  going  out 
for  a  ride,  directed  Purcey  to  perform  some  duties  in 
her  absence.  Upon  her  return,  being  much  fatigued 
with  her  exercise,  she  seated  herself  in  an  easy  chair. 
Looking  about  the  room,  she  discovered  that  the  work 
left  for  Purcey  had  not  been  properly  attended  to. 
Immediately  there  was  a  display  of  passion,  and  she 
directed  her  husband  to  ring  the  maid's  bell.  Purcey 
was  somewhat  slow  in  obeying  the  summons,  as  she 
was  dressing  to  go  riding  herself,  a  privilege  she  had 
always  enjoyed.  When  she  entered  the  room,  her 
mistress  was  almost  struck  dumb  by  her  appearance. 
She  was  robed  in  a  purple  silk  riding-habit;  her  rid- 
ing hat  sat  jauntily  upon  her  shapely  head ;  while  at 
her  well  formed  throat  was  fastened  a  bunch  of  violets, 
which  made  a  happy  contrast  with  her  beautiful  face ; 
her  petite  feet  were  encased  in  the  daintiest  of  boots^ 
and  could  just  be  seen  as  they  peeped  out  beneath 
the  bottom  of  her  skirts.  Mrs.  Maxwell  flew  into  a 
rage,  sprang  from  her  chair,  and  raised  her  riding 
whip,  which  she  still  held  in  her  hand,  and  exclaimed : 

"  How  dare  you,  you  wench,  enter  my  presence  in 
this  manner?" 

Purcey  drew  herself  up  proudly,  and  said :  "  Missa, 
don't  strike  me  with  that  whip,  or  I'll  die  for  you." 


14  BOND   AND    FREE. 

Mrs.  Maxwell  was  a  handsome  woman,  and  she 
had  no  cause  to  fear  any  rival,  but  where  on  earth 
did  one  woman  who  was  handsome,  and  knew  it, 
ever  meet  another  handsomer  than  herself  that  the 
seeds  of  jealousy  did  not  take  root  ?  There  was  a 
wfde  chasm  between  Mrs.  Maxwell  and  her  servant, 
but  Purcey  appearing  in  such  a  costume  at  such  a 
time,  was  really  exasperating  and  outrageous  to  her 
bias  views  of  the  duty  of  an  underling,  and  she  had 
determined  to  stop  it  at  once.  But  meeting  so  defi- 
ant an  air  from  her  intended  victim,  she  wisely  con 
eluded,  though  still  angry,  to  adopt  a  less  summary 
mode  of  punishment.  Her  hand  fell  to  her  side,  and, 
dropping  into  her  easy  chair,  she  said,  imperatively : 
"Disrobe  me."  Purcey  immediately  obeyed  with  that 
submissiveness  characteristic  of  her  race.  Mrs.  Max- 
well never  again  attempted  to  administer  corporal 
punishment  to  her. 


CHAPTEE   II. 

ANOTHER  FAMILY. 

The  adjoining  plantation  to  Jonathan  Maxwell's 
belonged  to  Abraham  Biggers,  Mr.  Biggers  was  a 
characteristic  Southerner,  the  owner  of  a  plantation 
of  over  five  hundred  acres,  upon  which  he  had  fifty 
or  a  hundred  human  beings,  besides  other  stock. 
The  latter  received  better  treatment  and  better  care 
than  the  former.  Among  this  goodly  number  of  Mr. 
Biggers'  goods  and  chattels,  was  a  family  of  McCul- 
lars,  consisting  of  father,  mother,  and  a  prolific  off- 
spring of  some  twenty  odd  children.  John  McCul- 
lar  was  a  man  about  sixty  years  of  age,  and  was 
a  freeman,  while  his  wife  was  the  alleged  property 
of  Mr.  Biggers,  as  were  all  of  the  children  who 
bore  the  name  of  McCullar.  For  in  those  halcyon 
days  of  traffic  in  human  stock,  if  the  husband  and 
father  was  born  a  freeman,  bought  his  freedom,  or  was 
set  free,  by  marrying  a  woman  in  bondage,  all  of  his 
offspring  became  the  property  of  the  woman's  master. 

It  will  at  once  be  seen  that,  as  John  McCullar 
was  a  freeman,  and  could  not  be  bought,  to  secure 
one  of  his  boys  upon  a  plantation  and  marry  him  to 
a  healthy  woman,  or  turn  him  loose — if  of  a  licentious 
nature — would  be  a  profitable  investment  for  any  man 
possessing  such  ideas  as  those  possessed  by  Jonathan 

(15) 


16  BOXD   AND    FREE. 

Maxwell.  A  marriage  between  one  of  Biggers' 
boys  of  the  McCullar  breed  to  Purcey  would  be  to 
him  a  continual  source  of  profit.  Well  may  it  be 
said  that  the  ways  of  Providence  are  beyond  under- 
standing. Here  was  a  man  who  had  no  master,  who 
was  what  was  called  a  free  man,  yet  deprived  of  the 
full  enjoyment  of  all  the  privileges  belonging  to 
other  freemen  because  his  skin  was  black.  This  man, 
in  his  ignorance,  connects  himself  to  a  woman  in 
bondage,  and  adds  fuel  to  the  already  burning  flame 
of  slavery.  Poor,  deluded  creature !  What  did  he 
know  of  the  wrong  he  was  doing  his  race?  What 
did  he  know  of  the  untold  suffering  which  awaited 
every  child  of  which  he  was  the  father  ?  And  this 
was  only  a  single  instance  of  how  this  blot  upon  a 
nation's  honor  was  fed,  was  kept  alive,  and  prospered. 
Better  had  John  McCullar  died  in  embryo  than  to 
have  been  born,  to  be  the  means  of  bringing  into  the 
world  so  many  human  beings  to  become  the  common 
property  of  a  soulless  huckster  in  humanity. 

Among  the  McCullar  boys  was  William,  a  fellow  of 
good  address,  who  could  follow  a  cradle  in  a  harvest 
field  from  sunrise  until  sunset,  walk  five  miles  to  a 
neighboring  plantation,  dance  all  night,  and  hold  his 
own  the  following  day  without  a  crack  from  the  over- 
seer's whip.  He  had  frequently  been  hired  by  Jonathan 
Maxwell  from  his  master,  and  had  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  everybody  about  the  place  by  his  steadi- 
ness and  his  pride.  William  had  considerable  pride 
for  a  slave ,  he  was  entirely  oblivious  of  his  own 


ANOTHER   FAMILY.  17 

situation,  but  appeared  fully  to  realize  that  the  most 
despicable  thing  to  come  in  contact  with  was  a  black 
man.  He  was  not  white  himself,  being  of  a  dark- 
brown  complexion,  with  lips  slightly  inclined  to  thick- 
ness, a  high  intelligent  forehead,  and  with  a  speech 
quite  free  from  the  "  dis  "  and  "  dat "  of  the  plan- 
tation hands.  A  distinguishable  feature  about  Wil- 
liam was  the  use  of  words  of  which  he  seldom  knew 
the  meaning,  but,  by  some  unaccountable  manner, 
succeeded  in  getting  them  in  the  proper  place.  The 
fact  of  his  using  language  in  advance  of  himself 
made  him  the  beau  ideal  of  all  the  females  for  miles 
around.  This  superior  recognition  led  him  to  look 
with  contempt  upon  his  fellow  male-associates. 

Now  there  were  plenty  of  female  servants  upon  Mr. 
Biggers'  plantation,  healthy,  buxom  women,  and  of  a 
varied  assortment  of  complexions,  from  the  whiteness 
of  an  Anglo-Saxon  to  the  deepest  black ;  but  there  is 
an  open  secret  which  existed  in  the  accursed  days  of 
slavery,  and  which  exists  among  the  race  to-day. 
That  secret  is,  that  a  real  black  man  is  generally  ex- 
tremely partial  to  very  light  women.  William  was 
no  exception  to  this  rule,  as  will  be  readily  perceived, 
and  when  at  one  of  those  regular  plantation  midnight 
gatherings,  where  an  old  uncle  sat  up  in  the  corner 
of  the  room  with  his  legs  crossed,  a  banjo  resting 
upon  his  knee,  head  thrown  back,  keeping  time  with 
his  foot,  and  calling  figures  to  the  time  of  the  music, 
music  which  seemed  to  inspire  every  living  thing, 
music  unwritten  and  unsung,  music  which  to  those 


18  BOND   AND   FREE. 

untutored  minds  was  as  sweet  as  the  music  of  a 
Strauss  or  a  Verdi  to  the  most  cultivated,  every- 
body was  dancing,  feet  were  shuffling  in  regular  order, 
the  ladies  moving  with  all  the  imaginable  grace  they 
could  assume,  while  the  gents  were  as  gallant  as  the 
most  attentive  chevalier,  he  noticed  among  the  throng 
of  amusement  seekers  a  beautiful,  sylph-like  form, 
whose  grace  of  motion,  lovely  countenance,  and  evi- 
dent superiority  over  her  more  unfortunate  sisters 
completely  captivated  him. 

Her  every  movement  was  closely  watched  by  him, 
and  there  were  few  of  his  associates  who  did  not  per- 
ceive a  radical  change  in  his  manner.  He  did  not 
enter  into  the  enjoyment  of  the  dance  with  the  same 
zest  as  on  other  occasions.  In  fact,  William's  mind 
was  wholly  engrossed  with  this  unknown  beauty.  It 
was  known  that  he  was  of  a  taciturn  disposition,  and 
the  fact  of  his  not  entering  fully  into  the  enjoyments 
of  the  evening  did  not  attract  the  attention  of  those 
present  so  much  as  his  actions,  whenever  this  par- 
ticular female  came  near  him.  He. would  gaze  after 
her  intently  and  longingly.  He  seemed  to  have  no 
words  for  anybody,  but  glutted  and  feasted  his  eyes 
upon  the  beautiful  form  of  the  woman  who  moved 
so  gracefully  from  place  to  place. 

Those  unfamiliar  with  slavery,  and  unaccus- 
tomed to  seeing  men '  and  women  so  fair  in  their 
complexions  as  to  raise  doubts  whether  they  were 
white  or  black,  would  have  thought  the  woman  who 
so  attracted  William's  attention  was  out  of  her  ele- 


ANOTHER    FAMILY.  19 

ment,  it  being  a  difficult  matter  to  discover  evidences 
of  negro  blood  in  her.  William  could  no  longer  re- 
strain his  admiration,  and  prevailed  upon  a  friend  for 
an  introduction.  He  was  presented  to  her,  and  met 
for  the  first  time  the  woman  who  afterwards  became 
his  wife.  William's  brilliant  conversational  powers 
and  gentlemanly  deportment  favorably  impressed 
Purcey. 

There  are  various  kinds  of  dancing  indulged 
in  by  persons  who  enjoy  that  amusing  pastime,  but 
for  original,  amusing,  and  active  dancing  one  should 
see  a  select  gathering  of  negro  house-servants  on  a 
plantation  as  they  glide  through  a  regular  old  Vir- 
ginia reel,  with  their  aptness  for  copying  after  the 
style  and  grace  of  their  mistresses,  combined  with  an 
admixture  of  original  jigging,  not  of  a  vulgar,  but 
of  a  quiet,  decent  character.  There  is  a  very  great 
difference  between  an  old  Virginia  break-down,  as 
indulged  in  by  the  field  hands,  or  what  they  com- 
monly called  "common  niggers,"  and  a  select  dance, 
as  indulged  in  by  the  house-servants,  or  "  upper  crust 
darkeys. "  In  the  latter,  there  is  an  entire  absence  of 
the  coarse,  vulgar,  noisy  break-downs  and  jigs  which 
were  so  common  in  the  former.  When  the  servants 
who  lived  in  the  "  big  house"  held  their  social  gather- 
ings, the  lines  of  social  distinction  were  closely  drawn. 
Even  among  these  poor  unfortunates,  all  deprived  of 
their  liberty  alike,  there  existed  those  social  ties  which 
both  bind  and  separate  the  coarse  and  vulgar  from 
the  more  refined  and  genteel. 


20  BOND   AND   FREE. 

Purcey's  beauty  and  lady-like  bearing  could  not 
help  but  command  considerable  attention  from  the 
colored  beaux.  Every  young  man  in  the  county  knew 
her,  and  every  young  man  in  the  county  would  have 
sacrificed  his  eye  teeth,  or  committed  some  other 
bodily  infliction,  to  have  had  the  pleasure  of  basking 
in  the  sunshine  of  Miss  Purce}^'s  smiles.  Several  had 
made  strenuous  efforts  to  gain  favor  from  her,  but  in 
vain.  Her  dignified,  yet  lady-like,  bearing  proved 
too  great  a  barrier  for  any  continued  advances  on 
their  part.  She  became  commonly  and  mutually  re- 
spected, if  not  almost  revered,  by  all  the  young  men 
without  being  bored  by  any  of  them.  She  was  called 
the  beauty  of  the  county,  and,  whenever  present  at 
any  kind  of  a  gathering,  was  the  queen  of  the  hour. 
It  need  not  be  said  that  a  vague  suspicion  existed 
among  these  sons  of  bondage  that  Purcey  thought 
herself  too  good  for  many  of  them,  and  the  suspicion 
was  well  founded. 

Among  the  most  determined  of  Purcey's  suit- 
ors, was  a  young  man  who  was  the  property  of 
a  once  very  wealthy  widow  lady,  who  kept  about 
her  only  a  few  servants  of  her  own,  hiring  what- 
ever other  help  she  needed  to  work  her  plantation. 
James  Seabury  was  the  young  man  in  question,  and 
he  was  the  Widow  Dean's  favorite  servant.  He  was 
given  much  liberty,  managed  the  other  servants,  and 
was  trusted  beyond  limit.  He  was  commonly  called 
the  "  Widow  Dean's  Jim."  Jim  was  of  a  copper- 
colored  complexion,  with  straight  hair,  clear  cut  fea- 


ANOTHER    FAMILY.  21 

tures,  and  a  fine  physique.  He  dressed  with  great 
taste  and  neatness,  and  sported  a  handsome  gold 
watch — a  gift  of  his  mistress,  who  took  great  pride  in 
him.  Jim  was  naturally  quick  withal,  and  possessed 
a  splendid  mind  which  only  needed  cultivation.  Here, 
however,  was  the  level  upon  which  he  stood  with  the 
most  stunted  and  ignorant  field  hand.  With  all  his 
natural  acquirements,  without  freedom,  without  the 
letter,  his  condition  was  a  regretful  one,  and  his  ex- 
cellent qualities  were  stunted  by  a  cruel,  unjust  op- 
pression. Jim  had  vainly  struggled  to  force  his  at- 
tentions upon  Purcey  ;  he  spared  neither  money  nor 
wit  to  win  her  affection,  and  while,  at  times,  his  soul 
was  delighted  by  a  few  hours  in  her  society,  yet  all 
of  his  advances  were  met  with  a  dignified  but  posi- 
tive check.  He  was,  of  course,  without  those  traits 
of  winsomeness  so  common  to  men  of  a  more  intel- 
lectual mind,  and  had  to  content  himself  with  his 
simple  knowledge  of  wooing,  as  he  had  been  taught 
by  Uncle  Oscar. 

Every  plantation  had  some  old  uncle  or  aunty 
who  set  up  business  as  instructor  in  love  affairs. 
Their  stock  of  information  was  very  limited, 
and  partook  much  of  a  sameness,  but  to  the  poor, 
untutored  minds  of  those  who  received  instructions 
from  them,  they  were  regarded  as  prophetical,  and 
great  confidence  was  placed  in  them.  The  instruc- 
tions in  love-making,  as  imparted  by  Uncle  Oscar, 
were  of  that  character  of  information  which  makes  a 
man  better  off  without  it.  He  could  get  so  far  and 


22  BOND    AND    FREE. 

no  farther ;  then  the  pupil  was  left  to  talk  for  himself. 
Jim  had  called  on  Uncle  Oscar  for  instructions  as  to 
how  to  make  love,  and  had  been  addressed  something 
like  this : 

"  Now,  chile,  when  yer  heart  is  set  on  a  young 
lady,  and  you  wants  ter  'splain  to  her  de  amors 
affecshun  of  yer  heart,  you  goes  in.  She  says, 
'Hab  a  seat  ?  '  You  says,  '  Don't  car  if  do.'  She  says, 
'Best  yer  hat?'  You  says,  'Don't  car  if  I  do.'  Den, 
when  you'se  seated,  you  cross  yer  legs,  puts  yer  hand 
up  in  yer  serspender,  dis  way,  fro  back  yer  head,  and 
say  :  '  Miss,  dar  has  been  sumpfin'  on  my  mind  dat  I 
hab  sought  prebious  opportunites  befor  the  present 
'cassion  to  give  unlimited  scope  to  my  'spressions. 
Should  dar  be  no  'jections,  I  desire  to  'splain  what 
hab  been  to  me  de  unhappy  moments  when  I'se 
absent  from  yer  presence.'  After  yer  hab  said  dis, 
den  wait  for  'feet" 

This  is  as  far  as  Uncle  Oscar's  instructions 
extended.  What  was  to  be  done  after  the  effect, 
James  was  left  to  decide  for  himself.  With 
this  meager  information,  arrant  knight  never  went 
forth  to  meet  his  lady  fair  with  more  boldness  than 
the  Widow  Dean's  Jim.  As  he  sallied  forth  to  call 
upon  Miss  Purcey,  over  and  over  in  his  mind  did  he 
turn  the  words  of  his  tutor,  until  he  could  repeat  them 
almost  verbatim.  Having  reached  the  presence  of 
his  fair  Dulcina,  being  invited  to  a  seat,  Jim,  without 
any  further  conversation,  began  to  recite  Uncle  Oscar's 
love  piece.  When  he  came  to  the  end  of  his  speech 


ANOTHER   FAMILY.  23 

he  stopped,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  waited  for  the 
effect.  Purcej  waited  for  him  to  proceed  until  the 
pause  became  embarrassing,  when  she  said,  "Pro 
ceed,  Mr.  Seaburj."  Jim  looked  at  her  in  a  dazed 
sort  of  manner,  appearing  completely  puzzled.  That 
word  was  more  than  he  could  digest.  He  did  not 
know  whether  it  meant  to  go  or  remain,  whether  it 
was  encouraging  or  discouraging ;  consequently,  Jim 
did  the  most-  natural  thing  imaginable:  he  looked 
straight  at  Purcey  with  a  puzzled  air  and  grinned. 

This  ended  the  love-making,  but  did  not  dampen 
Jim's  ardor,  for  he  continued  to  press  his  attentions 
upon  Purcey  to  such  an  extent  that  the  girl  grew 
alarmed  at  hisdoggeddetermination.  He  began  to  grow 
desperate,  and  finding  that  he  could  not  summon 
sufficient  manly  courage  to  declare  his  love,  he  de- 
cided to  fill  his  bosom  with  the  stuff  that  cheers,  and 
which  is  supposed  to  urge  men  to  deeds  of  valor  as 
well  as  crime.  Opportunity  soon  presented  itself — a 
camp- meeting  was  to  be  held  a  few  miles  from  the 
village,  and,  as  was  the  custom  when  camp-meetings 
were  held,  everybody  for  miles  around  attended  them. 

Jim  selected  one  of  the  widow's  best  horses,  and 
provided  himself  with  plenty  of  spending  money. 
Dressed  with  his  usual  neatness,  his  gold  watch-fob 
dangling  from  his  pocket,  he  set  out  for  the  camp, 
intending  to  seek  Purcey,  whom  he  knew  would  be 
there.  Now  had  Jim  been  possessed  with  the  cour- 
age or  the  forethought  of  the  average  young  man, 
he  would  have  engaged  his  lover's  company  for  the 


24  BOND    AND    FREE. 

entire  journey,  and  thus  shut  out  the  possibility  of 
any  rival  out-generaling  him.  But  not  attending  to 
these  details,  he  was  doomed  to  a  disappointment  and 
humiliation  that  day  which  ended  forever  his  affec- 
tions for  Purcey,  and  shook  his  confidence  in  the  en- 
couraging influence  of  the  wine  when  it  is  red,  or  corn 
juice  after  it  is  distilled. 

The  camp-meeting  was  a  large  one,  conducted  by 
Brother  Uncle  Belden,  of  Baptist  faith.  Brother  Bel- 
den  was  a  gifted  man ;  he  was  blessed  or  gifted  with 
a  stentorian  pair  of  lungs,  a  very  active  and  original 
imagination,  and  could  read  the  Bible  with  the  lids 
closed,  with  as  much  satisfaction  to  himself  as  he 
could  when  open,  because  Brother  Belden  could  not 
read  at  all.  He  had,  however,  been  called  to  preach, 
and  with  an  ever-ready  obedience  shown  by  those 
only  who  have  received  the  call,  he  responded. 
Uncle  Belden  was  one  of  that  vast  army  of  called 
laborers  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord,  who  have  never 
stopped  to  measure  their  fitness.  Fitness  was  con- 
sidered hardly  necessary  as  a  qualification  to  their 
labor:  So  nearly  on  an  equality  were  the  preacher 
and  the  hearer,  that  he  who  announced  that  he  had 
been  called  by  the  Lord  to  labor  in  His  moral  vine- 
yard was  looked  upon  with  holy  reverence.  They 
were  all  equallv  deprived,  both  the  called  and  the 
uncalled.  The  privilege  of  obtaining  any  better 
knowledge  of  the  Word  of  God  was  denied  them, 
except  through  the  medium  of  such  men  as  Uncle 
Belden. 


ANOTHER   FAMILY  25 

In  him  they  confided ;  him  they  honored ;  in  him 
they  saw  the  messenger  of  the  Lord  bearing  the  only 
consolation  which  was  like  balm  to  their  hearts 
in  their  deepest  sufferings.  From  this  source  they 
learned,  after  all  the  sufferings  of  this  life,  that  a 
brighter  and  more  peaceful  one  awaited  them  in  the 
life  to  come. 

It  was  the  true  camp-meeting  of  ye  olden  times, 
when  the  people  were  inspired  with  the  earnestness 
of  their  work,  and  worshiped  beneath  the  green  trees 
and  the  bright  heavens,  the  sweet  songsters  of  na- 
ture responding  to  their  earnestness.  The  soft,  green 
turf  upon  which  they  kneeled  and  poured  forth 
prayers,  such  as  only  their  simple  souls  could  give 
utterance  to,  was  quite  in  place,  and  far  superior  to 
their  houses  of  worship.  The  hymns  they  sang  were 
original  and  quaint,  the  music  was  unwritten  and  in- 
imitable, the  pathos  exciting  them  to  high  but  ear- 
nest demonstration.  What  a  contrast  between  ye 
camp -meeting  of  ye  good  old  slave-days  and  the 
Sabbath -breaking,  speculative  gatherings  of  to-day! 
It  was  one  of  these  camps  Jim  attended,  and  as  he 
had  expected,  met  Purcey  Upon  discovering  her, 
he  carried  out  with  avidity  his  determination  to  bol- 
ster up  his  courage  with  the  stuff  that  cheers.  From 
the  well-filled  bottle  with  which  he  had  provided 
himself,  he  took  frequent  potations,  until  his  courage 
was  up  to  the  point  of  boldness  sufficient  to  ap- 
proach her.  Purcey,  dressed  in  the  riding  habit  which 
had  so  incensed  her  mistress,  resting  against  a  tree, 


26  BOXD   AND   FREE. 

and  deeply  engrossed  with  Brother  Belden's  disserta- 
tion upon  the  unknown  future,  looked  the  picture  of 
beauty. 

Jim  approached  her,  touching  her  gently  on  the 
arm.  Purcey  turned  suddenly,  and  discovered  from 
his  dilating  eyes  and  the  unpleasant  aroma  which 
emanated  from  his  mouth  that  he  had  been  drinking. 
Her  first  impulse  was  to  reprimand  him  then  arid 
there,  but  fearing  to  attract  attention,  she  said : 

"Well,  Mr.  Seabury,  you  here?" 

Jim  said,  "  Yes,  Miss  Purcey,  will  you  walk  with 
me?" 

This  invitation,  coming  from  a  young  man  in  his 
cups,  would  doubtless  have  been  refused  by  most 
young  women,  but  Purcey,  knowing  Jim's  sticking 
qualities,  assented.  The  two  left  the  vicinity  of  the 
pulpit,  which  was  a  rude  structure  erected  out  of 
rough  boards  and  set  upon  four  logs,  and  proceeded 
a  short  distance  toward  the  open  road.  When  they 
had  gone,  as  Purcey  thought,  far  enough,  she  stopped, 
and,  in  a  very  polite  manner,  asked  her  escort  what 
he  desired.  By  this  time.  Jim  had  become  pretty 
well  confused,  and  had  been  lost  in  a  maze  of  thought 
as  to  what  to  say  to  Purcey ;  now  that  they  were 
alone,  after  a  moment's  silence,  having  apparently  col- 
lected his  scattered  thoughts,  he  said : 

"Miss  Purcey,  I  love  you,  'deed  I  do,  and,  if  your 
master  will  let  me,  I  want  to  marry  you.  Will  you 
have  me?  "  At  this,  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  seized 
her  hand  with  both  of  his,  covering  it  with  kisses. 


ANOTHER    FAMILY.  27 

Purcey  was  almost  dying  with  laughter,  for,  from 
amidst  the  crowded  camp,  she  saw  William  McCullar 
looking  uneasily  around,  and  knew  that  it  was  she 
whom  he  sought.  He  finally  caught  a  glimpse  of  her 
standing  in  the  road,  a  man  upon  his  knees  before 
her,  and  she  struggling  to  free  her  hand  from  his 
grasp.  With  a  sudden  bound,  almost  like  a  flash,  he 
was  at  her  side;  taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance, 
he  saw  no  harm  was  meant  Purcey ;  so  he  gently  re- 
leased Jim's  grasp,  and,  taking  Purcey  by  the  arm, 
stood  between  the  girl  and  his  arduous  rival.  With 
a  graceful  sweep  of  his  arm  and  a  look  of  contempt, 
William  said,  "  Young  man,  you's  entirely  too  pre- 
vious," when  he  quietly  led  her  away.  Poor  Jim, 
finding  himself  alone  in  the  road  and  his  rich  black 
broadcloth  pants  covered  with  dust,  arose  shyly, 
sought  his  horse,  returned  home,  and  banished  all 
love  for  Purcev  from  his  bosom. 


CHAPTER  III. 
THE  BARGAIN. 

Jonathan  Maxwell  was  anxious  that  Purcey  should 
marry  one  of  the  McCullar  breed,  which  one,  he  did 
not  care.  So  he  betook  himself  to  the  Biggers 
plantation  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  about  the  de- 
sired union.  Jonathan  was  always  a  welcome  visitor 
at  the  Biggers  mansion,  and,  when  announced,  Mr. 
Biggers  was  just  turning  over  in  his  mind  the  pro 
ject  of  "putting  a  few  niggers  into  his  pocket,"  as  he 
always  termed  the  bartering  away  of  human  flesh  and 
blood.  For  some  time  Mr.  Biggers  had  been  grow- 
ing financially  embarrassed;  he  had  parted  with  a 
number  of  his  slaves  to  the  traders,  and  others  had 
parted  from  him  for  fear  of  being  sold  South.  Two 
or  three  of  his  slaves  had  made  successful  attempts  in 
escaping,  which  had  only  aroused  the  rancorous 
feeling  in  the  man,  and,  one  day,  he  called  them  all 
up  and  informed  them  that  the  next  time  a  d — m 
nigger  ran  away  from  the  plantation,  he  would  sell 
all  the  rest  and  put  them  into  his  pocket,  where  he 
was  sure  they  would  be  safe. 

Mr.  Biggers  said,  "  Don't  I  clothe  you  ?  don't  I  feed 
you?  don't  I  give  you  a  holiday  every  Christmas? 
Well,  if  I  do  this,  why  don't  you  be  obedient  to  your 
master,  and  be  contented  with  your  lot?"  After  giv- 
es) 


THE  BARGAIN.  29 

ing  them  this  lecture,  he  bought  two  keen-scented 
blood-hounds,  discharged  his  overseer,  and  brought 
up  another  from  an  Alabama  plantation,  a  man  who 
he  said  could  flay  a  nigger  alive,  and  was  up  to  all 
their  tricks.  Notwithstanding  all  of  these  precau- 
tions, it  was  not  long  before  another  runaway  was  re- 
ported, and  as  Mr.  Biggers  sat  counting  up  his  losses 
from  runaways — for  every  runaway  slave  represented 
the  loss  of  so  many  dollars  and  cents,  which  natur- 
ally decreased  Mr.  Biggers'  wealth — and,  further, 
realizing  the  pressing  demands  for  money.  Jona- 
than Maxwell's  visit,  just  at  this  time,  on  business  of 
the  nature  upon  which  he  came,  was  not  only  oppor- 
tune, but  a  great  oasis  in  Mr.  Biggers'  financial  desert. 

It  would,  perhaps,  be  well  to  contrast  the  two  men 
as  we  have  them  before  us.  Jonathan  Maxwell  we 
know  as  a  proud,  unscrupulous,  designing  man,  stop- 
ping at  nothing  to  make  a  dollar,  yet  he  was  not  a 
cruel  master,  unless  all  men  who  deprived  their  fel- 
low-man of  his  liberty  were  cruel.  Abraham  Big- 
gers was  a  man  of  an  entirely  different  type,  being 
short  in  stature,  heavily  built,  stub-feet,  stub-hands^ 
and  stub-nose.  His  head  was  round  and  his  neck 
short  and  thick.  He  looked  out  of  two  very  restless 
and  small  eyes,  overhung  with  large  shaggy  eyebrows 
while  all  over  his  countenance  could  be  discerned  ? 
low  cunning,  cruelty,  and  utter  meanness. 

Having  welcomed  Jonathan,  he  led  the  way  into  a 
comfortable  sitting-room,  inviting  his  visitor  to  a  seat 
Opening  a  drawer  with  a  key  which  he  selected  from 


30  BOND   AND   FKEE. 

a  large  bunch  lie  had  taken  from  his  pocket,  he  pro- 
duced a  box  of  cigars,  pushed  them  toward  Jonathan, 
who  took  one  and  lighted  it.  Mr.  Biggers  did  like- 
wise. He  waited  for  Jonathan  to  open  up  the  con- 
versation, for  it  was  a  rule  with  him  to  talk  but  little 
and  listen  much.  Jonathan  was  rather  impatient  to 
hurry  through  with  his  business,  for  he  had  little 
liking  for  the  man  he  had  to  deal  with.  It  is 
doubtful  .whether,  under  circumstances  other  than 
his  pecuniary  interest,  he  would  have  condescended 
to  pay  a  visit  to  a  man  of  Mr.  Biggers'  stamp.  With- 
out much  ceremony,  he  made  known  the  object  of 
his  visit.  He  removed  his  cigar  from  his  mouth, 
and  said : 

"  Biggers,  do  you  know  my  girl  Purcey  ?  " 

Biggers  looked  up  thoughtfully,  tapped  his  red 
forehead  with  one  of  his  stubby  fingers,  bent  his  little 
round  body  forward,  and  said  : 

"  Do  you  mean  that  devilish  pretty  yaller  gal  whom 
you  have  spoiled  ?  " 

"  "Well,  if  that's  the  way  you  put  it,  yes." 

"  What  of  her?  "  said  Mr.  Biggers. 

"  I  should  like  to  match  her  with  one  of  your 
niggers — remember,  she  is  a  fine  girl,  and  I  don't 
care  about  matching  her  with  any  on  my  place,  so  I 
thought  if  I  could  get  your  consent,  we  would  mate 
her  with  one  of  the  McCullar  niggers." 

Mr.  Biggers  sat  bolt  upright,  removed  the  cigar  from 
his  mouth,  which  he  had  been  chewing  more  than 
smoking,  and  before  answering,  wondered  what  object 


THE   BARGAIN.  81 

other  than  the  one  stated,  Jonathan  could  have  in 
desiring  this  union.  He  knew  that  whatever  children 
they  had  would  become  Maxwell's,  and  he  (Biggers) 
would  gain  nothing  by  the  match  in  that  respect.  He 
also  feared  that  Puree  y,  proud  as  he  knew  she  was — 
her  blood  being  so  mixed  with  that  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon — might  put  the  devil  in  her  husband's  head  and 
induce  him  to  run  away.  He  did  not,  however,  give 
utterance  to  any  of  these  thoughts,  but  looked  steadily 
at  Maxwell,  as  he  said  slowly, 

"Jonathan,  what  will  you  take  for  that  gal?" 

"  I  don't  want  to  sell  her ;  I  want  to  mate  her." 

"  Why  not  sell  her  ?  Let  me  have  her,  and  I'll 
make  you  a  present  of  the  first  born — and  it  won't 
be  a  nigger,  either." 

Jonathan  Maxwell  did  not  know  whether  Biggers 
was  in  earnest  or  in  jest,  for  Biggers  kept  smiling 
all  the  time  and  looking  straight  at  him.  So  speak- 
ing rather ,  impatiently,  he  said,  "Biggers,  I  mean 
business,  and  you  have  gone  to  jesting." 

"  Never  was  more  serious  in  my  life.  You  sell  me 
the  gal  or  buy  the  boy,  otherwise  we  can't  drive  a 
bargain." 

Jonathan  knew  that  when  Biggers  came  to  a  con- 
clusion there  was  no  moving  him.  He  had  not  thought 
of  making  a  purchase,  but  he  now  saw  that  if  he 
wanted  to  mate  Purcey  to  one  of  the  McCullars,  he 
must  buy  one  of  them.  So  he  said,  "  Which  one 
will  you  sell?" 

"  Any  one  of  them   you  want.     A  nigger's  only 


32  BOND    AND   FREE. 

so  much  cash  to  me,  and  I  would  just  as  lief  sell  one 
as  another;  all  I  want  is  the  price." 

''  Well,"  said  Jonathan,  "  the  one  I  hire  from  you 
occasionally  is  a  good  worker,  apparently  sound, 
healthy,  and  active.  What  is  your  price  for  him  ?  " 

"  That's  a  devilish  good  boy  you  have  selected,  and 
I  would  not  part  with  him  for  a  cent  less  than  two 
thousand  dollars,"  was  Mr.  Biggers'  reply,  as  he 
brought  his  fist  down  upon  the  table.  And  his  little 
eyes  twinkled. 

"  Then  you  had  better  keep  him  ;  he  is  worth  more 
to  you  than  he  is  to  me.  There  isn't  a  nigger  on  my 
place  I  would  ask  you  that  much  for." 

"  Will  you  take  two  thousand  dollars  for  the  gal?  " 

"  Yes,  give  me  the  money,  and  she  is  yours." 

Mr.  Abraham  Biggers  was  taken  somewhat  aback 
by  this  offer,  for  with  all  his  talk  about  buying  the 
girl,  he  had  no  such  intention,  and  if  he  had,  all  his 
ready  resources  were  so  intricately  tied  up  that  he 
could  not  have  made  the  purchase  had  his  desire  been 
ever  so  great.  So  he  began  to  change  his  mode  of 
attack. 

"Now  look  here,  Maxwell,  two  thousand  dollars 
ain't  a  big  price  for  that  'ere  boy,  for  he's  worth 
every  dollar  of  it,  and  if  he  is  anything  like  that  old 
black  father  of  his,  he  will  make  five  times  the 
money  for  you  in  less  than  ten  years.  Besides,  as  a 
hand  about  the  place,  I  haven't  got  his  equal ;  never 
growls,  ain't  vicious,  and  only  needs  lashing  once  in 
a  while  to  keep  him  in  mind  of  his  place."  This  was 


THE    BARGAIN.  33 

one  of  Mr.  Biggers'  customs,  which  he  invariably 
carried  out,  no  matter  how  faithful  a  slave  was,  how 
attentive  to  work,  or  true  to  his  master.  With  that 
ingratitude  of  the  dog  that  snaps  at  the  hand  which 
feeds  him,  this  cruel  and  heartless  master  found  some 
pretext  to  ply  the  lash,  often  remarking  that  niggers 
would  forget  themselves. 

Jonathan  Maxwell  was  quick  to  take  advantage  of 
Mr.  Biggers'  pecuniary  condition ;  he  well  knew  and. 
fully  understood  the  close  quarters  his  neighbor  was 
in.  He  knew  the  man,  and  he  at  once  commenced  to 
display  an  air  of  indifference. 

"  Now,  Biggers,  I  ain't  particular  about  Bill,  any 
of  the  other  boys  will  suit  me  just  as  well.  The 
reason  I  selected  him  is,  because  the  girl  appears  to 
take  to  him,  and  I  don't  believe  there  would  be  any 
trouble  about  mating  them,  if  I  had  him  on  the 
place." 

Mr.  Biggers  rubbed  his  stubby  hands  together,  as 
though  greatly  tickled  with  the  last  remarks  of 
Jonathan. 

"  Ha !  ha  !  Maxwell,"  he  replied,  "that's  it  exactly, 
that's  it ;  the  gal  takes  to  him,  no  trouble  to  make  the 
match,  two  thousand  dollars  and  he  is  yours;  cheap, 
sir,  cheap  as  bull-beef  at  a  penny  a  pound,"  and  lying 
back  in  his  chair,  he  laughed  heartily  at  his  own 
cleverness. 

"  But,"  said  Jonathan,  "  I  protest !  Two  thousand 
dollars  is  too  much ;  I  can  buy  two  niggers  for  that." 

Mr.  Biggers  formed  the  opinion  in  his  own  mind 


34  BOND   AND    FREE. 

that  he  was  very  clever.  So  pleased  was  he  with  his 
own  humor  that  he  invariably  laughed  when,  as  he 
thought,  he  was  about  to  say,  or  had  said,  a  clever 
thing.  He  did  not  intend  to  lose  the  chance  of 
making  a  sale,  and  his  object  for  holding  out  so  long 
before  coming  down  to  his  selling-price  was  to  see 
how  anxious  Jonathan  was  to  make  the  purchase. 
Jonathan's  indifference  made  him  somewhat  afraid 
to  dally  too  long,  and  he  spoke  now  like  a  man 
anxious  to  take  hold,  but  unwilling  to  let  go. 

"  So  you  could,  sir,  so  you  could.  But  the  two 
wouldn't  be  the  one  you  want,  ha !  ha !  How  is  that, 
Maxwell?  Ha!  ha!" 

Jonathan  looked  at  his  neighbor,  and  a  sarcastic 
smile  overspread  his  face.  He  was  growing  tired  of 
Mr.  Biggers,  for  he  felt  satisfied  that  that  gentleman 
had  not  put  the  price  he  meant  to  sell  at  on  the  man, 
Bill.  He  was  as  anxious  to  buy  as  Biggers  was  to 
sell,  but  he  used  every  effort  to  conceal  his  anxiety. 

"  Tell  you  what  I  will  do.  If  you  have  any  other 
niggers  to  sell,  I  will  take  one  of  them ;  I  wouldn't 
pay  two  thousand  dollars  for  any  one  you  have  on 
the  place." 

"  That  shows  you  don't  know  the  place,  and  what 
it  is  capable  of  producing,  Maxey ,  ha !  ha !  (Jonathan's 
lip  curled  with  scorn  at  being  thus  familiarly  addressed, 
but  said  nothing.)  "  Make  me  an  offer,"  said  Mr.  Big- 
gers, "but be  liberal,  Maxey,  be  liberal." 

''Make  you  a  liberal  offer?"  said  Jonathan,  with  a 


THE    BAEGAIN.  35 

smile.  "I  shall  be  liberal;  I  will  give  you  one 
thousand  and  five  hundred  cash." 

Mr.  Biggers  stretched  out  his  short  legs  to  their 
full  length,  lay  back  in  his  chair,  tossing  to  one  side 
his  little  bullet  head,  while  his  little  pea-like  eyes 
closed  alternately,  his  stubby  hands  went  down  into 
his  pockets,  and,  in  the  absence  of  any  cash,  rattled 
a  bunch  of  keys.  His  thin  blue  lips  were  pursed 
up,  and  he  uttered  a  long,  low  whistle  which  ended 
by  him  saying,  "  Not  by  a  d — m  sight !  " 

"All  right,"  said  Maxwell,  as  he  arose  and  took 
his  hat  and  gloves  from  the  table.  "  Then  that  settles 
it,  the  boy  is  yours,  the  girl  is  mine,  and  so  is  the 
cash." 

Mr.  Biggers,  without  changing  his  position,  with 
his  eyes  still  performing  the  grand  change,  said,  "  Add 
another  hundred."  Jonathan  paused,  with  his  hand 
upon  the  door-knob,  eyed  his  neighbor  closely,  and, 
without  a  word,  returned  to  the  table,  took  his  check- 
book from  the  inner  pocket  of  his  coat,  and  filled  up 
a  blank  for  sixteen  hundred  dollars.  This  he  handed 
over  to  Mr.  Biggers,  who  examined  it  closely  again 
and  again,  folded  it  up,  and  in  a  very  bad  hand  wrote 
out  a  receipt,  transferring  the  same  to  Jonathan,  and 
with  as  polite  a  bow  as  his  coarse  manners  permitted, 
said, 

"  Shall  I  send  the  boy  with  you?  " 

Jonathan  answered,  "No,  send  him  to  me."  By 
this  transaction,  William  McCullar  became  the  pro- 
perty of  Jonathan  Maxwell,  and  was  to  be  installed 


36  BOND   AND    FREE. 

upon  the  very  plantation  where  the  woman  he  loved 
resided.  He  was,  in  fact,  to  enjoy  bondage  under  a 
new  master,  where  his  eyes  would  daily  behold  all 
that  was  dear  to  him  in  life. 

Was  it  possible  for  this  piece  of  goods  and  chattel 
to  have  within  his  breast  affection?  Could  that 
affection  spring  from  the  same  source  as  that  of  a 
white  man?  Was  it  born  of  the  same  material, 
possessing  the  same  tendency?  Was  it,  or  could 
it  be,  formed  into  a  love  pure  and  true,  a  love  such 
as  poets  have  sung  of,  and  mankind  is  subject  to? 
Could  this  being,  deprived  of  everything  except 
the  five  senses  given  him  by  God,  either  by  instinct 
or  reason,  reach  that  higher  attitude  of  affection? 
Such,  dear  readers,  was  the  case.  His  ardor  reached 
the  fullest,  the  highest,  the  purest,  the  holiest  of  love. 
This  was  the  affection  which  William  McCullar,  a 
slave,  who  had  nothing  but  his  soul  to  call  his  own, 
bore  Purcey.  And  when  his  master  summoned  him 
and  handed  him  an  unsealed  note,  directing  him  to 
deliver  it  at  the  Maxwell  plantation,  his  innocent 
heart  bounded  with  joy — not  that  he  knew  the  con- 
tents of  the  note,  for  had  it  been  written  in  letters 
ten  times  as  large,  they  would  have  conveyed  to  his 
mind  no  greater  significance  than  do  the  characters  on 
Chinese  tea  chest  to  the  average  man.  William's 
heart  bounded  because  he  knew  that  in  going  to  the 
Maxwell  plantation  he  would  see  Purcey ;  because 
he  could  go  to  the  house  where  she  resided,  in  open 
daylight  without  fear  of  molestation,  and  feast  his 


THE    BARGAIN.  37 

eyes  upon  her  beauty.  There  was  but  one  thing  that 
puzzled  him.  He  could  not  understand  why  his 
master  had  selected  him  as  a  bearer  of  a  message 
to  Jonathan  Maxwell.  House-servants  were  usually 
employed  as  messengers,  and  he  was  a  teamster. 
Another  thought  struck  him.  Was  the  note  he  had 
to  deliver  a  pass  that  he  could  use  upon  his  return, 
as  he  realized  that  it  would  be  well  into  the  night 
before  he  could  return?  This  gave  him  cause  for 
alarm.  He  feared  that,  returning  in  the  night,  he 
might  be  captured  by  the  patrol,  and  he  well  knew 
what  that  meant,  to  be  caught  off  his  master's  planta- 
tion without  a  pass. 

The  patrol  were  a  dread  to  all  slaves.  They  were 
men  employed  by  the  master  to  arrest  all  slaves  found, 
after  a  certain  hour  at  night,  away  from  home  without 
a  permit.  When  they  caught  a  slave,  his  back  usually 
got  nine  and  thirty.  They  consisted  of  a  poor  class 
of  whites,  who  found  pleasure  in  such  employment, 
often  indulging  in  it  for  mere  sport.  They  frequently, 
out  of  pure  cussedness,  attacked  the  slaves  when  as- 
sembled together,  or  having  such  pleasures  as  they 
found  to  indulge  in.  The  patrol,  consisting  of  half 
a  dozen  ruffians,  would  surround  a  resort  for  slaves, 
and  make  a  raid  upon  it ;  the  negroes  would  scatter 
in  every  direction,  and  those  unfortunate  enough  to  be 
captured  were  whipped  for  the  fun  of  it.  These  ruf- 
fians did  not  always  succeed  in  getting  away  without 
injury,  for  a  broken  head  caused  by  a  stray  missile 
hurled  by  some  slave  was  not  an  unusual  occurence. 


38  BOND   AND   FREE. 

William  did  not  spend  much  time  in  considering 
these  questions,  although  very  important  to  him.  He 
had  been  directed  by  his  master  to  go  to  the  Max- 
well plantation,  and  the  prospect  of  seeing  Purcey, 
he  thought,  was  worth  a  race  with  the  patrol.  They 
had  to  catch  him  before  they  whipped  him,  and  he 
consoled  himself  with  the  confidence  he  had  in  his 
legs.  He  now  set  out  to  deliver  the  message  of  his 
master,  perfectly  innocent  of  his  purchase  by  Jona- 
than. So  eager  was  he  to  reach  his  destination  that 
he  arrived  there  in  an  incredibly  short  time.  Little 
did  he  think  what  a  doom — a  pleasant  doom — was  in 
store  for  him. 

How  like  many  of  his  fellow-men  was  William! 
His  position,  his  surroundings  were  not  given  a 
moment's  thought.  Now,  all  his  thoughts  were 
concentrated  on  the  one  object,  His  one  hope, 
his  one  thought  was  of  the  woman  he  loved ;  and 
any  pretext  or  opportunity  that  carried  him  into  the 
presence  of  her  to  whom  he  was  devoted  was  only 
too  eagerly  sought  or  accepted.  The  note  was  duly 
delivered  to  Jonathan  Maxwell,  who,  after  glancing 
over  its  contents,  said  to  William,  "  I  have  bought 
you.  You  are  to  remain  upon  my  place."  Had  a 
thunderbolt  struck  at  his  feet  and  buried  itself  in 
the  earth  without  injuring  him,  William  could  not 
have  been  more  amazed.  He  was  stricken  completely 
dumb,  and  stood  with  bowed  and  uncovered  head  in 
that  attitude  of  submissiveness  so  characteristic  of 
the  slave,  his  heart  struggling  within  his  bosom  as  if 


THE    BARGAIN.  39 

it  would  burst  forth  from  its  confines ;  Jonathan  di- 
rected him  to  go  to  the  kitchen  and  remain  there 
until  sent  for.  William  moved  mechanically,  but 
swiftly,  making  an  effort  to  conceal  from  his  new 
master  his  happiness.  Entering  the  kitchen,  he  found 
Purcey  's  mother  in  charge  of  the  culinary  department, 
busy  in  preparing  the  midday  meal. 

Every,  or  nearly  every  Southern  kitchen  seemed 
to  be  incomplete  without  the  customary  black  cook, 
generally  an  old  aunty,  coal  black,  her  head  en- 
cased in  a  bandanna  handkerchief,  and  with  a  knowl- 
edge of  cooking  that  fitted  her  to  cook  a  meal 
to  please  a  king.  The  Maxwell  house  had  one  of 
this  kind  of  chefs  with  the  exception  of  the  black- 
ness. Elva,  the  mother  of  Purcey,  was  not  an  ordi- 
nary woman.  On  the  contrary,  she  was  a  most  ex- 
traordinary woman,  taking  into  consideration  her 
condition.  She  was  endowed  with  quick  perception 
and  much  intelligence.  She  was  of  tall  stature,  with 
high,  intelligent  forehead,  and  large,  black,  lustrous 
eyes,  which,  when  fixed  upon  one,  seemed  to  rivet 
him  to  the  spot,  or  burn  their  way  almost  into  the  very 
heart.  Over  these  eyes,  she  had  .complete  control. 
Her  daughter  Purcey  fully  understood  their  every 
motion,  Elva  could  ask  or  answer  a  question,  with- 
out moving  her  lips,  by  the  expression  of  her  eyes.  She 
could  spread  beams  of  love,  or  darts  of  awe.  Neither 
her  mistress  nor  master  cared  to  withstand  their  gaze. 
•Jonathan  was  never  known  to  invade  that  part  of 


40  BOND   AND    FREE. 

the  house  allotted  to  Elva,  except  when  his  cook  was 
in  the  most  amiable  mood. 

When  William  entered  the  kitchen,  Elva,  though 
busily  engaged  at  her  work,  appeared  much  engrossed 
in  thought.  We  have  said  that  she  was  an  extraor- 
dinary woman,  and  so  she  was  for  one  in  her  posi- 
tion. Her  intelligence  was  remarkable,  and  she  pos- 
sessed all  of  those  qualities  peculiar  to  her  sex.  Per- 
haps the  admixture  of  Indian  and  Anglo-Saxon  blood 
in  her  veins  answered  for  the  possession  of  these  quali- 
ties. But  making  such  an  admission  as  this  strength- 
ens a  theory  which  was  quite  prevalent  in  the  days 
of  slavey  and,  perhaps,  exists  among  a  few  negro- 
haters  to-day — that  a  negro  is  incapable  of  any  deep 
thought.  Nevertheless,  Elva  was  thinking  and  roll- 
ing out  dough  at  the  same  time. 

She  was  the  mother  of  five  children,  as  we  know. 
Her  husband  had  been  sold  from  her  immediately 
following  the  birth  of  the  fifth  and  last  child.  After 
he  was  sold,  she  determined  never  to  marry  again ; 
she  would  never  again  be  guilty  of  adding  fuel  to  the 
fire  of  slavery.  This  was  a  vow  she  took  and  she 
kept  it,  notwithstanding  the  importunities  of  numer- 
ous suitors.  She  had  taken  another  vow,  and  that 
was  that  her  children  should  be  free — at  least  those 
who  desired  freedom — and  it  was  this  subject  which 
so  deeply  interested  her  that,  when  William  entered 
the  room,  she  failed  to  notice  his  presence.  Plans 
had  already  been  effected  for  the  escape  of  her  two 
sons,  and  she  was  now  engaged  in  studying  out  the 


THE    BARGAIN.  41 

course  she  was  to  pursue  in  assisting  in  the  contem- 
plated escape.  She  knew  nothing  of  William's  pres- 
ence until  she  heard  him  mention  her  name.  Turning 
suddenly  with  the  rolling-pin  in  her  hands,  she  be- 
held William,  his  face  wreathed  in  smiles,  bowing 
and  scraping  in  an  excited  manner.  His  presence  at 
such  an  hour  at  the  Maxwell  house,  looking  unusu- 
ally tidy  and  acting  so  strangely,  rather  surprised  her. 
It  was  not  William's  custom  or  privilege  to  visit  Pur- 
cey  in  the  day-time.  He  usually  came  at  night,  and 
was  always  in  fear  of  being  captured  by  the  pa- 
trol before  he  could  return  home ;  it  was  also  a  very 
unusual  thing  for  one  of  Mr.  Biggers'  negroes  to  be 
off  on  a  holiday.  William  would  often  stop  at  the 
Maxwell  house,  when  passing  with  his  six-horse  team, 
and  had  been  made  the  recipient  of  many  a  square 
meal.  But  here  he  was,  at  an  hour  in  the  day  when 
all  able-bodied  negroes  were  earning  bread  for  their 
masters.  She  looked  at  him  with  those  beautiful 
black  eyes,  which  seemed  to  ask  the  question  her  lips 
finally  propounded.  William  had  just  come  from  a 
hard  and  severe  master,  who  worked  his  slaves  hard 
and  fed  them  poorly,  and  this  change  of  masters  gave 
him  so  much  pleasure  that  he  could  hardly  realize 
it. 

Mr.  Biggers  had  very  strict  rules  about  his  place, 
especially  applying  to  his  slaves.  None  of  them  were 
allowed  off  of  the  place ;  and  if  they  went  to  church, 
or  attended  any  of  the  festivities  on  neighboring  plan- 
tations, to  be  found  out  was  to  receive  a  sure  and 


-±2  BOND    AND    FREE. 

severe  lashing.  Abraham  Biggers'  negroes,  as  it  was 
known  for  miles  around,  never  got  more  than  half 
enough  to  eat.  For  six  days  in  the  week,  they 
worked  from  sunrise  until  sunset,  upon  rations  is- 
sued to  them  daily,  and  on  the  seventh  day  they 
fared  the  best  they  could,  rations  never  being  issued 
on  the  Sabbath.  His  idea  was,  that  when  a  nigger 
didn't  work  he  didn't  need  to  be  fed.  It  will  then  be 
seen  that  all  of  his  slaves  were  left  to  shift  for  them- 
selves upon  this  particular  day.  The  result  was,  that 
neighboring  hen-roosts,  as  well  as  smoke-houses  and 
corn-fields,  were  frequently  visited.  Many  were  the 
complaints  to  Mr.  Biggers  about  his  thieving  negroes, 
but  to  them  he  only  turned  a  deaf  ear.  The  reader 
might,  perhaps,  think  that  the  hen-roosts  of  Mr.  Big- 
gers suffered  with  the  rest,  but  such  was  not  the  case. 
There  was  not  a  slave  upon  his  place  that  dared  to 
steal  from  this  man ;  they  could  steal  from  anywhere 
else,  or  steal  anything  they  could  lay  hands  upon, 
but  it  was  worth  a  negro's  life  to  steal  from  Abra- 
ham Biggers. 

There  were  many  things  in  the  character  of  Mr. 
Abraham  Biggers  showing  that  he  was  a  man  with- 
out principle,  avaricious,  conniving,  and  not  only  a 
cruel  master,  but  that  he  was  in  fact  mean.  He 
bore  the  unenviable  reputation  of  acquiring  the  pro- 
perty of  his  neighbors  without  paying  a  proper 
equivalent,  and  through  very  questionable  means. 

It  was  a  custom  to  allow  to  all  slaves  from 
three  to  four  weeks  during  the  Christmas  holi- 


THE    BARGAIN.  43 

days.  Their  time  was  exclusively  their  own.  After 
the  first  of  the  year,  many  of  them  who  were  hired 
out  by  their  masters  exchanged  places.  The  Christ- 
mas season  was  a  general  gala  time  among  them, 
and  for  weeks  before  its  approach,  they  began  to  lay 
by  their  little  earnings  for  a  good  time.  Some  mas- 
ters allowed  them  whatever  they  could  earn  for  two 
or  three  weeks ;  others  granted  their  slaves  the  priv- 
lege  of  raising  a  hog,  or  poultry,  which  they  could 
dispose  of  at  will,  and  apply  the  proceeds  of  such  a 
sale  to  their  enjoyment.  Those  who  had  masters 
who  granted  none  of  these  privileges  secured  their 
spending  money  by  stealing  whatever  they  could, 
and  converting  their  stealings  into  money.  Many 
slaves  who  were  employed  to  thresh  grain  would  fill 
their  pockets  with  it,  whenever  opportunity  offered, 
and  by  this  means  would  get  bags  full,  and  sell 
wherever  they  could.  Such  was  the  business  that 
Mr.  Biggers  indulged  in.  He  would  buy  anything 
brought  to  him.  He  was  known  to  have  bought  as 
high  as  ten  bags  of  clover-seed  stolen  from  his  neigh- 
bor's granary  by  the  servants.  To  his  mind,  this  was 
profitable  business ;  the  hogs  in  his  pens,  the  poultry 
in  his  barn-yard,  and  the  sheep  in  his  pasture,  as  well 
as  the  grain  in  his  granary,  were  all  well  mixed  with 
the  pilfered  property  of  his  neighbors.  Still  this 
man  worked  and  drove  his  servants  on  barely  suffi- 
cient rations  to  sustain  life,  and  no  complaints  were 
ever  tolerated. 

His  servants  were  never  allowed  to  eat  at  the  table, 


44  BOND   AND    FREE. 

but  were  compelled  to  eat  standing.  In  harvest,  but 
half  an  hour  was  given  for  meals,  and  they  were 
driven  under  the  whip  of  a  cruel  overseer  from  sun- 
rise until  sun  set.  Abraham  Biggers  had  never  been 
married;  no  woman  had  ever  as  yet  been  won  by  any 
of  Mr.  Biggers'  personal  charms ;  so  far  he  had  been 
left  alone  to  enjoy  his  meanness  and  vent  his  spleen 
upon  his  goods  and  chattels,  in  place  of  upon  a  com- 
panion of  his  bosom.  You  must  not  think,  dear 
reader,  that  this  man,  capable  of  doing  anything 
mean,  contemptible,  or  base,  hesitated  to  satisfy  his 
passions  with  the  poor  unfortunate  creatures  who 
were  forced  to  call  him  master.  It  was  his  custom 
to  live  with  those  of  his  female  slaves  whom  his 
base  desires  choose.  By  one  of  them,  he  had  been 
known  to  have  three  children,  selling  mother  and 
children  to  the  traders.  It  was  a  very  ordinary  thing 
for  Mr.  Biggers  to  engage  in  this  sort  of  business. 
He  was  once  known  to  purchase  a  very  handsome 
woman  called  Jane,  to  whose  quarters  he  would  go 
regularly  at  night  and  remain.  The  woman  finally 
gave  birth  to  a  child,  and  was,  in  a  few  weeks,  sold 
to  the  traders.  As  negro  traders  never  bought  women 
with  nursing  children  at  their  breast,  and  as  the 
child's  whereabouts  was  never  discovered,  rumors 
flew  thick  and  fast  that  only  God  and  Abraham  Big- 
gers knew  its  fate.  This  was  the  man  from  whom 
William  McCullar  was  purchased  by  Jonathan  Max< 
well,  and  the  man  had  many  reasons  to  rejoice  at  the 
change  of  mastership. 


THE    BARGAIN.  45 

When  Elva  looked  at  William,  she  sai'd,  "  Well, 
William,  what  brings  you  here?" 

''Oh,  Aunt  Elva,  what  you  think?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  honey,  but  I  bin  thinking  good  bit 
of  late.  What's  the  matter?'1 

"Why,  Mars  Maxwell  has  done  bought  me,  and  I 
am  to  live  here." 

Elva  was  quite  surprised  to  hear  this  announce- 
ment, and  said:  "Well,  one  thing's  sure,  child,  you'll 
have  a  better  master  and  more  to  eat.  I  suppose 
you  and  Purcey  will  both  be  happy.  But,  child, 
take  my  advice  and  don't  marry  to  bring  children 
into  the  world  to  become  slaves."  William  hardly 
heard  this  last  remark,  for  entering  the  room  from  a 
door  directly  before  him,  was  Purcey,  with  her  hands 
full  of  dishes;  and  in  her  plain  calico  wrapper  and 
neat  apron,  her  hair  tucked  carefully  away  under  a 
pretty  little  turban,  she  cut  a  simple  but  beautiful 
figure.  She  bowed  to  William,  deposited  the  dishes 
upon  the  table,  extended  her  hand,  and  invited  him 
to  a  seat,  a  courtesy  her  mother  had  entirely  forgotten 
to  extend,  owing  to  her  astonishment.  Purcey  said, 
"  Why,  Mr.  McCullar,  what  brings  you  here  this  time 
of  day?" 

"I  have  come  here  to  stay." 

"  Come  here  to  stay !  What  dp  you  mean?  " 

"  Mars  Maxwell  bought  me  to-day,  and  I  arn  to 
stay  here." 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Purcey  had  no  love 
for  William,  for  she  had ;  she  loved  him  dearly,  sin- 


46  BOND   AND    FKEE. 

cerely,  but  with  becoming  modesty.  So  when  she 
heard  that  William  had  been  bought  by  her  master, 
she  could  scarcely  conceal  her  ecstasy.  She  could 
hardly  realize  that  he  whom  she  loved  so  dearly  was 
to  be  her  every-day  companion,  or,  at  least,  be  so 
near  to  her  that  she  would  see  him  almost  constantly. 
In  a  very  calm  manner,  she  congratulated  him,  and 
hoped  he  would  be  pleased  and  contented  with  his 
new  home.  William  was  soon  settled  in  his  new 
quarters,  and  the  course  of  love  ran  smooth  be- 
tween him  and  Purcey,  for  unlike  other  people  of 
the  world,  although  enjoying  freedom,  there  was 
nothing  to  roughen  the  course  of  these  two  hearts. 
Bound  in  love  and  bound  in  bondage,  they  entwined 
and  encircled  themselves  around  each  other,  and 
sought  that  happiness  known  only  to  the  unsophisti- 
cated. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  WEDDING. 

Purcey  and  William  found  much  happiness,  as  was 
to  be  expected,  from  this  very  agreeable  change. 
Jonathan  allowed  them  to  indulge  in  their  affection 
toward  each  other  without  interruption.  They  were 
allowed  every  imaginable  freedom.  Purcey  was  per- 
mitted on  Sundays,  accompanied  by  William,  to  use 
her  mistress'  riding  horse,  while  William  was  given 
the  same  liberty  with  his  master's  stable.  Purcey 
was  an  accomplished  horsewoman,  and  when  she 
would  set  out  to  have  a  spurt  with  her  lover,  dress- 
ed as  she  was  in  a  neat  riding-habit  made  by  her  own 
hands  from  cast-off  clothing  of  her  mistress,  her  beauti- 
ful black  tresses  floating  in  the  breeze,  and  the  bright 
red  glow  of  youth  coloring  to  a  beautiful  pink  tint 
her  delicate  complexion,  Jonathan  Maxwell  himself 
felt  proud  of  being  the  owner  of  so  beautiful  a  woman. 
Mrs.  Maxwell,  though  woman  like,  could  not  help 
but  inject  a  little  envy  into  her  remarks  when  speak- 
ing of  the  girl.  William  was  envied  by  many  of 
the  young  men.  He  accompanied  Purcey  to  all  the 
parties,  to  camp-meeting,  and  wherever  she  appeared 
in  public.  They  grew,  if  anything,  more  attached 
to  each  other,  until  the  warmest  passions  of  love 
ruled  supreme  in  their  bosoms.  They  wouid  ride 
for  miles  and  miles  together,  and  Purcey  would  make 

(47) 


48  BOND   AND   FKEE. 

the  woods  ring  with  her  joyous  laughter  whenever 
William  pleased  her  by  saying  something  clever 

I  have  said  that  the  course  of  love  ran  smooth  for 
these  two  children  of  bondage,  and  so  it  did.  Their 
happiness  was  of  that  sort  where  perfect  contentment 
existed,  where  the  mind  is  oblivious  to  the  uncertain- 
ties of  life.  William  had  none  of  those  responsibili- 
ties before  him  that  would  cause  a  freeman  to  think 
and  consider  of  the  future.  He  lived  only  in  the 
present,  he  thought  only  of  the  present ;  and  enrap- 
tured with  the  surroundings  and  the  change  in  his 
situation,  his  mind  never  embraced  such  an  idea  as 
an  end  to  all  things.  He  did  not  have  upon  his 
shoulders  any  of  the  responsibilities  of  life :  every 
provision  was  made  for  him.  He  was  before  the  law 
an  irresponsible  being,  simply  a  machine  built  in 
human  form,  capable  of  thought,  but  restrained  from 
action.  His  master  filled  a  dual  part  for  him,  as  the 
masters  of  all  slaves  did.  It  is  true  that  William's 
chief  wish  and  thought  was  to  have  Purcey  for  his 
wife,  for  he  loved  her.  The  only  thing  now  necessary 
was  to  obtain  his  master's  consent.  The  warning 
Elva  had  given  was  entirely  lost  upon  him;  he  had 
neither  thought  nor  care  for  the  future;  he  cared 
only  for  the  present,  his  future  was  his  master's. 
Purcey  lived  as  much  in  the  present  as  her  lover. 
She  had  already  consented  to  become  his  wife;  such 
a  union  to  her  would  be  the  consummation  of  her 
highest  hope.  Notwithstanding  her  mother's  attempt 
to  discourage  her  from  any  desire  to  wed  while  a 


THE  WEDDING.  49 

slave,  the  advice,  wholesome  as  it  was,  had  taken 
wings  at  the  touch  of  Cupid,  and  was  no  longer  to  be 
felt.  So  much  in  the  present  did  she  live  that  she 
thought  not  of  a  possible  separation;  she  thought  not 
of  the  hundreds  of  wives  and  husbands  as  devoted, 
as  faithful,  as  happy  as  herself,  whom  she  had  seen 
separated,  sold — one  taken  by  one  driver,  and  the 
other  by  another,  rent  ruthlessly  asunder.  The  holy 
ties  of  wedlock  were  thus  severed  by  the  whim  or 
will  of  a  heartless  man.  She  had  seen  mother  torn 
from  daughter,  father  from  son,  wife  from  husband. 
How  many  had  she  seen  placed  upon  the  block,  how 
many  had  she  heard  of  being  quietly  spirited  away, 
perhaps  never  to  be  seen  again  by  those  they  loved 
most  dear!  So  entirely  was  she  enraptured,  so  de- 
voted was  she  to  this  bondman-lover,  that  if  she  had 
a  thought  of  these  things,  it  was  brushed  aside  to 
give  place  to  that  sweeter  thought,  her  present  happi- 
ness. 

It  was  not  an  unusual  custom  for  some  masters 
to  give  their  slaves  an  elegant  wedding  when  they 
married,  especially  among  the  better  class  of  Southern- 
ers, and  as  Jonathan  Maxwell  belonged  to  one  of  the 
best  of  Southern  families,  he  followed  the  custom 
closely,  allowing  the  widest  freedom  of  the  house  to 
Purcey  and  her  friends.  Preparations  on  a  grand 
scale  were  made.  A  select  coterie  of  house-servants 
were  invited  from  neighboring  plantations,  many  of 
the  females  being  attired  in  their  mistresses'  silks  and 
satins.  Here  and  there  a  favorite  servant  could  be 


50  BOND   AND   FREE. 

seen,  resplendent  in  the  jewelry  of  her  mistress,  while 
a  few  of  the  males  were  arrayed  in  their  masters' 
dress  suits,  in  some  instances  worn  with  the  know- 
ledge of  the  master,  but  in  most  without  it.  The 
ceremony  was  performed  with  great  eclat  by  Rev. 
Meredith,  pastor  of  the  church  to  which  Jonathan 
Maxwell  belonged  (for  it  must  not  pass  unnoticed 
that  Jonathan  was  a  member  in  high  standing  in  the 
church).  The  bride  was  richly  attired,  as  Mrs.  Max- 
well took  great  pains,  at  the  solicitation  of  her  husband, 
in  preparing  Purcey  for  the  great  event.  She  stood 
there  with  the  blushes  of  virtue  upon  her  handsome 
face,  her  hand  resting  gently  upon  William's  arm, 
while  the  long  black  eye-lashes  drooped  over  her 
beautiful  black  eyes,  which  were  cast  upon  the  floor. 
The  words  of  the  minister  sounded  distinctly  as  he 
said,  "What  God  has  joined  together  let  no  man  put 
asunder."  What  a  hollow  mockery  were  those  words, 
uttered  by  a  man  of  the  Gospel,  in  the  presence  of  hun- 
dreds who  did  not  realize  their  meaning,  and  many 
who  had  no  regard  for  their  sacredness !  Many  of 
the  whites  were  present  at  the  ceremony,  and  took 
great  pride  in  pointing  out  their  servants,  comment- 
ing on  their  value  and  appearance.  For  two  days 
the  Maxwell  house  was  kept  open,  the  servants  came 
and  went,  danced  and  ate  to  their  hearts'  content. 
Nothing  was  spared  to  make  the  event  a  pleasant 
one.  There  was  many  a  one  who  danced  at  Purcey's 
wedding  who  lived  to  see  the  words  of  the  minister 


THE  WEDDING.  51 

set  at  naught,  and  the  holiest  of  all  earthly  ties  sev- 
ered by  the  capricious  will  of  a  heartless  master. 

The  few  privileges  that  slaves  were  allowed  to  en- 
joy were  taken  the  greatest  advantage  of  by  them. 
These  privileges  followed  in  the  wake  of  all  their 
misery,  degradation,  and  suffering.  In  the  midst  of 
it  all,  they  found  that  enjoyment  that  a  people  find 
who  cannot  elevate  themselves  above  their  surround- 
ings; they  extracted  pleasure  out  of  misery,  and 
found  happiness  in  servitude,  because  they  realized 
no  other  condition  in  life ;  they  married  and  were 
given  in  marriage,  and  so  lived  until  their  masters 
saw  fit  to  separate  them ;  they  knew  nothing  of  home 
influence,  because  there  were  no  home  ties;  they  as- 
sumed no  responsibility  as  parents,  for  their  children 
were  only  raised  to  increase  their  masters'  coffers. 
Could  they  but  have  realized  this,  a  blow  would 
have  been  struck  at  the  heart  of  slavery  that  would 
have  caused  it  to  decay  from  within.  The  wedding 
now  over,  Purcey  was  William's  wife,  and  both  of 
them  still  the  common  property  of  Jonathan  Max- 
well. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  BAD  START. 

The  two  sons  of  Elva,  Henry  and  Joseph,  had  for 
some  time  contemplated  making  their  escape  from 
slavery.  Their  mother  earnestly  seconded  them,  and 
gave  them  every  encouragement  in  carrying  out  their 
design.  They  had  long  since  concluded  that  they 
were  as  much  value  to  themselves  as  to  their  master, 
and  they  saw  no  reason  why  they  should  not  be  free 
men.  They  longed  for  freedom,  and  had  now  deter- 
mined to  obtain  it.  They  had  seen  their  father  sold 
from  them  and  their  mother,  and  they  had  seen  chil- 
dren sold  from  their  parents.  The  horrors  of  slavery 
had  deeply  impressed  them,  and  they  grew  to  detest 
it  in  all  of  its  forms.  Joseph  was  a  brave,  manly, 
intelligent  boy,  who  brought  his  master  three  or  four 
hundred  dollars  yearly  by  his  hire.  Henry  was  his 
senior  by  a  few  years,  and  about  equally  as  valuable 
to  his  master.  Freedom  to  them  was  a  boon  much 
wished  for,  but,  as  yet,  their  idea  as  to  what  hard- 
ships they  must  suffer  before  obtaining  it  had  not 
developed  into  any  definite  form.  They  knew  that 
many  had  made  successful  escapes,  while  others,  who 
had  attempted  escape,  had  been  returned  and  sold  to 
the  traders,  taken  South,  there  to  end  their  existence 
upon  some  cotton  plantation,  or  in  some  Georgia  rice 
swamp,  with  a  cruel  overseer  to  scourge  them,  and 

[52] 


A   BAD    START.  53 

where  the  constant  baying  of  the  blood  hound  froze 
the  very  blood  in  their  veins  from  fear.  With  all  of 
the  dangers  imminent  from  an  attempt  to  escape, 
they  remained  undaunted  and  determined.  Freedom 
was  what  they  craved  for,  and  in  order  to  obtain  it, 
everything  must  be  surmounted  that  stood  between 
them  and  that  for  which  they  so  earnestly  longed. 
Implicit  confidence  was  placed  in  Elva's  sagacity  and 
foresight,  her  advice  frequently  sought,  and  closely 
adhered  to. 

Besides  Henry  and  Joseph,  there  were  five  others 
to  accompany  them.  The  arrangements  were  all 
completed,  and,  by  agreement,  they  all  assembled  at 
one  of  the  slave  cabins  on  the  Maxwell  place,  pre- 
paratory to  starting.  A  fixed  resolution  to  meet 
death,  rather  than  be  recaptured,  was  in  the  mind  of 
every  man. 

Elva  pointed  out  to  them  the  North  star,  telling 
them  this  was  the  guide  to  all  runaways,  and  that  by 
following  it  they  would  eventually  reach  the  North, 
and  a  free  land.  She  instructed  them  to  keep  to- 
gether, and  if  molested,  to  fight  to  the  death.  It 
was  certainly  a  picture  to  see  these  seven  human 
beings,  a  throbbing  heart  within  the  bosom  of  each 
one,  that  beat  and  longed  for  freedom.  They  were 
fleeing  from  a  servitude  which  robbed  them  of  man- 
hood, and  deprived  them  of  liberty.  Had  it  not  been 
for  their  natural  endowments,  they  would  have  been 
reckoned  on  a  level  with  the  brute  creation. 

Standing  there,  with  uncovered  heads,  listening  to 


54  BOXD   AND   FREE. 

the  directions  of  this  woman,  who,  like  an  angel,  was 
directing  them  to  a  land  of  freedom,  was  a  picture,  a 
striking  picture,  and  some  day  the  brush  of  an  artist, 
or  the  pen  of  a  writer,  a  descendant  of  this  race,  will 
do  justice  to  one  of  many  such  scenes  which  have  so 
often  occurred. 

Elva  closed  her  instructions  by  invoking  the  bless- 
ings of  God  upon  them,  and  saying,  "  Whatever  you 
do,  honeys,  pray  constantly  and  trust  in  God." 

In  the  stillness  of  the  night,  with  no  sound  except 
the  soft  rustling  of  the  leaves  as  they  were  fanned 
by  the  spring  breeze,  the  chirping  of  the  crickets, 
and  the  croak  of  the  frog,  this  little  band  of  heroes 
set  out  upon  their  search  for  freedom.  Joe  was  se- 
lected as  the  leader,  as  he  was  the  most  intelligent  of 
the  band,  while  Henry,  his  brother,  acted  as  a  kind 
of  lieutenant.  Usually,  when  men  start  out  upon  an 
expedition  fraught  with  danger  and  unknown  perils, 
they  go  prepared  to  meet  any  difficulty,  well  armed 
and  well  prepared.  But  how  illy  prepared  was  this 
band  of  runaways !  All  the  weapons  they  had  for 
protection  were  a  stout  hickory  club,  carried  in  the 
hand  of  each  man,  and  only  one  fire-arm,  Joe  being 
in  charge  of  it.  The  latter  was  of  an  old  pattern,  not 
guaranteed  to  kill  at  a  dozen  yards.  They  sallied 
forth,  however,  feeling  that  they  were  protected  by 
an  overruling  Providence,  and  strong  in  their  deter- 
mination to  escape,  counting  upon  their  numerical 
strength  at  close  quarters.  Legs  were  used  to  good 
effect,  and  when  daylight  began  to  dawn,  Joe,  the 


A  BAD  START.  55 

leader,  said,  "  Boys,  daylight's  coming  and  we  had 
better  lay  by."  The  entire  party  left  the  road  and 
concealed  themselves  in  a  corn-field. 

Dick  Cramp  was  detailed  to  make  a  reconnoisance. 
He  made  the  circuit  of  the  field  in  which  they  were 
concealed.  Beaching  a  little  hill,  he  looked  out  over 
the  broad  expanse  of  corn,  and  saw  at  some  distance 
a  white  bull  grazing.  He  looked  again,  and  shaded  his 
eyes  with  his  hand,  thinking  he  was  mistaken ;  but 
there  grazed  the  white  bull,  oblivious  to  the  fact  that 
he  was  an  object  of  great  interest.  Dick  did  not  stop 
to  look  again,  but  rushed  back  to  the  hiding-place  of 
the  others,  and  called  Joe.  The  noise  he  made  run- 
ning through  the  corn  brought  every  man  to  his  feet, 
club  in  hand,  and  the  excited  man  was  plied  with 
questions  as  to  what  was  the  matter. 

Dick  was  one  of  Mr.  Biggers'  slaves,  and  had 
joined  the  band  of  heroes  determined  upon  seek- 
ing freedom.  He  was  as  finely  built  a  specimen  of 
humanity  as  the  eye  ever  rested  upon,  black  as  a 
coal,  with  close-cropped  hair,  and  well  developed 
muscles.  Just  why  a  white  bull  should  so  startle 
him  would  not  be  strange  when  we  consider  how 
superstitious  negroes  were ;  but  there  was  a  great 
deal  more  of  reality  than  superstition  about  this  par- 
ticular bull. 

Mr.  Biggers  owned  a  white  bull  of  very  fine  breed, 
and  it  was  the  only  one  of  the  kind  known  for  miles, 
in  that  neighborhood.  When  Dick  saw  this  white 
bull,  he  knew  that  it  was  his  master's,  and  when  he 


56  BOND   AND   FREE. 

had  recovered  himself  sufficiently  to  answer  the  many 
questions  with  which  he  was  plied,  he  said: 

"  Fore  de  Lord,  boys  !  I  saw  Mars  Biggers1  white 
bull  grazen  over  yonder  on  de  hill/' 

Joe  replied:  "  Dick,  you'se  a  fool ;  what's  Biggers' 
bull  doin'  grazen  round  here,  when  we'se  miles  from 
home?  Ain't  we  been  travelin'  all  night?  " 

"  Can't  help  it,  child,  dat's  Mars  Biggers'  bull.  Go 
look  for  yoursels." 

Biggers'  white  bull  was  as  familiar  to  Joe  and  all 
the  rest  of  them  as  it  was  to  Dick.  To  allay  Dick's 
fears,  Joe  went  to  the  fence,  mounted  it,  and  looking 
in  the  direction  indicated  by  Dick,  beheld  the  identi- 
cal white  bull.  Joe  discovered  more,  upon  a  careful 
investigation ;  he  discovered  that  they  were  in  Mr. 
Biggers'  corn-field,  and  quickly  concluded  that  they 
had  lost  their  way,  having  simply  been  circling  around 
their  starting-point.  Keturning  to  the  others,  he  said: 

"Boys,  we'se  in  a  pretty  fix;  here  we  been  trablin' 
all  night,  and  ain't  out  of  sight  of  de  old  plantation." 

"What  we  gwine  to  do,"  some  one  asked. 

"  Why,  we'll  all  go  home  and  go  to  work,  meet 
here  to-night,  and  start  agin,"  said  Joe. 

As  it  was  hardly  daylight,  it  was  not  probable  that 
any  of  them  had  been  missed  from  their  homes,  few 
of  their  fellow-slaves  knowing  of  their  intention  to 
escape.  This  secrecy  was  always  necessary,  for  so 
many  of  the  slaves  were  untrustworthy  about  any- 
thing concerning  affairs  about  the  plantation,  deem- 
ing it  their  duty  to  tell  their  masters  anything  about 


A   BAD   STAET.  57 

one  another  they  knew.  In  view  of  the  fact  of  the 
contemplated  escape  not  being  generally  known,  Joe's 
suggestion  was  a  wise  one.  All  their  things  were 
hid  in  the  corn-field  ;  each  one  betook  himself  to  his 
respective  abode,  and  went  about  his  work  as  though 
nothing  unusual  had  happened.  Joe  did  not  make 
his  home  with  the  Maxwells,  being  hired  out  by  his 
master.  He  had  some  distance  to  travel  to  reach  the 
place  where  he  was  hired.  Being  much  fatigued, 
upon  reaching  his  home,  he  proceeded  to  his  room  in 
the  loft  of  the  house,  and  had  just  thrown  himself 
upon  his  apology  for  a  bed,  which  occupied  a  very 
narrow  space  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  when  his 
master's  voice  summoned  him  to  perform  his  daily 
chores. 

Joe  arose  with  aching  head  and  throbbing  heart, 
wondering  whether  the  news  of  his  attempted  escape 
had  reached  his  master's  ears.  The  escape  had  been 
attempted  Saturday  night,  so  that  they  would  have 
the  whole  of  Sunday  for  a  start,  all  the  boys,  except- 
ing Joe,  having  sought  permission  from  their  masters 
to  be  absent  on  Sunday.  It  will  be  perceived  by 
this  that  they  would  have  had  a  full  night  and  a 
day's  start  before  being  missed.  It  being  Sunday, 
Joe  soon  performed  his  chores,  and  put  out  for  the 
Maxwell  homestead  to  see  his  mother.  When  he 
entered  the  kitchen,  Elva  was  engaged  at  her  usual 
occupation.  Upon  seeing  him,  she  at  once  dropped 
everything,  and  stood  there  gazing  at  her-  son  as 
though  he  were  an  apparition.  Eiva  had  spent  nearly 


58  BOND   AND   FKEE. 

all  of  the  night,  upon  her  knees,  praying  for  the  suc- 
cessful escape  of  her  sons.  She  had  believed  them 
to  be,  at  that  time,  a  safe  distance  from  the  old  planta- 
tion. She  did  not  utter  a  word,  but  her  eyes  con- 
veyed her  astonishment.  Joe  broke  the  silence  by 
asking  if  she  had  seen  Henry. 

"Seen  Henry!"  Elva  replied,  "No,  honey,  what 
does  this  mean  ?  " 

He,  thereupon,  told  her  of  their  traveling  all  night, 
to  find  themselves,  the  next  morning,  in  Biggers' 
corn-field.  Elva  bent  her  head  in  silence,  and,  look- 
ing up  after  a  few  seconds'  meditation,  rested  her 
large  black  eyes  upon  Joe,  saying, 

"Son,  this  must  be  all  for  the  best.  God  had 
something  to  do  with  this.  The  next  time  you'll 
get  away.  Go  home  now,  keep  this  to  yourself,  and 
start  again  next  Saturday  night." 

"  Why,"  said  Joe,  "  we  was  goin'  to  start  agin  to- 
night." 

"No,"  said  Elva,  "you  would  be  missed  in  the 
morning,  and  they  would  soon  be  upon  your  track, 
and,  perhaps,  take  you  before  you  crossed  the  river. 
Wait  until  next  Saturday." 

Whether  it  was  fanaticism  or  superstition,  Elva 
was  possessed  with  great  confidence  in  the  efficacy  of 
prayer.  She  had  also  reached  a  point  in  religious 
fervor  which,  was  termed  among  her  friends,  sanctifi- 
cation ;  she  felt  that  she  was  sanctified,  and  that  God 
revealed  to  her  many  things  to  which  the  unholy 
were  entirely  blind.  This  religious  fervor,  or  fanati- 


A   BAD   START.  59 

cisrn,  brought  her  into  prominence  among  her  people. 
When  Sister,  or  Aunt,  Elva  bowed  clown  in  prayer, 
everything  was  hushed  in  silence.  She  prayed  con- 
stantly and  persistently  for  the  abolition  of  slavery. 
She  knew  not  how  it  would  come,  or  when  it  would 
come,  but  she  contended  that  just  as  sure  as  the 
children  of  Israel  were  led  out  of  bondage,  just  so 
sure  would  her  people  be  free — a  prediction  which 
poor  Elva  lived  not  to  see  fulfilled.  Yet  it  has  come. 

It  seems  almost  incredible  that  this  woman  of  bond- 
age should  have  had  so  intelligent  an  understanding, 
so  appreciative  a  sense  of  the  over-ruling  power  of 
Providence,  of  the  faithfulness  with  which  His  divine 
predictions  are  carried  out.  But  faith  in  God,,  con- 
fidence in  His  mercy,  and  trust  in  His  power,  are  all 
that  kept  up  these  poor  creatures  under  the  terrible 
sufferings  through  which  they  passed.  Ignorant  as 
they  were  of  all  other  things,  deprived  of  all  light  to 
lead  their  simple  minds  to  a  more  complete  knowledge 
of  the  creation  of  all  men  free  and  equal,  robbed  of 
all  their  manhood  and  womanhood,  they  yet  hoped, 
trusted,  and  prayed. 

Elva  was  one  of  those  creatures,  as  we  have  said, 
possessed  of  splendid  natural  endowments,  in  which 
predominated  the  holy  spirit.  Such  prayers  as  she 
uttered  were  simply  marvelous;  the  language  with 
which  she  expressed  herself;  and  the  easy  manner  in 
which  it  flowed  from  her  lips,  would  have  done 
credit  to  many  of  our  divines  of  to-day.  Often  she 
would  be  found  upon  her  knees  in  the  midst  of  her 


60  BOND   AND   FREE. 

work,  sending  up  one  of  her  fervent  petitions  to 
Heaven,  nor  was  Joe  surprised  when  his  mother 
seized  his  hand  and  bade  him  kneel  by  her  side.  She 
clasped  her  hands  together,  and  her  lips  moved  for 
some  moments.  At  last  she  arose,  Joe  saying, 
"  Amen! "  and  hastening  away. 

He  went  to  the  village  of  M ,  and  there  met 

several  of  the  party  of  the  previous  night.  He  com- 
municated to  them  that  the  start  would  not  be  made 
until  later  in  the  week,  and  that  they  were,  in  the 
meantime,  to  arm  themselves  better  and  keep  their 
counsel. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  ESCAPE. 

The  point  from  which  Joe  and  his  companions  had 
made  their  unsuccessful  attempt  at  escape  was  situ 
ated  some  fifteen  miles  from  the  Potomac  river,  and 
seven  miles  from  the  town  of  D .  The  inten- 
tion was  to  reach  the  river  before  daylight,  and,  bj 
the  aid  of  a  guide,  who,  they  understood,  would 
be  at  the  river,  they  would  be  assisted  across  into  the 
State  of  Maryland  through  which  they  would  have 
but  a  short  distance  to  travel  to  get  into  Pennsyl- 
vania, when  they  would  be  in  a  free  State  at  least. 
Kunaway  slaves  had  been  assisted  across  the  Poto- 
mac at  various  points,  and  directed  by  agents  of  what 
was  known  as  the  Underground  Railroad  to  freedom. 
Numbers  of  them  had  also  been  betrayed  by  members 
of  their  own  race  on  both  the  Virginia  and  Mary- 
land sides  of  the  Potomac.  At  the  point  where  Joe 
and  his  companions  were  to  cross,  they  had  engaged 
the  services  of  a  man  by  the  name  of  Charles  John- 
son. Johnson  belonged  to  a  Mr.  Kerwin,  who  owned 
the  only  ferry-boat  that  crossed  the  river  within 
twenty  miles  of  the  place  which  they  wanted  to 
reach.  Mr.  Kerwin  possessed  but  a  very  small  quota 
of  the  large  number  of  human  beings  held  in  bond- 
age. Charles  and  a  girl  about  sixteen  years  of  age 
were  all  he  owned.  He  drove,  however,  a  thriving 

(61) 


62  BOND   AND   FREE. 

business  in  catching  runaway  negroes  and  returning 
them  to  their  masters. 

He  had  a  very  shrewd,  but  paying,  way  of  con- 
ducting this  nefarious  business — capturing  run- 
aways and  concealing  them  until  a  large  reward  was 
offered,  when  he  would  produce  them  and  de- 
mand the  reward.  By  this  means,  he  had  laid  aside 
quite  a  competency,  but  being  of  a  very  miserly  dis- 
position, carried  on  his  negro-catching  and  ferrying, 
taking  passengers  over  at  two  cents  a  head.  Instead 
of  investing  his  money  in  negroes,  whom  he  feared 
might  run  away  from  him,  he  hoarded  up  all  the 
wealth  he  could  secure  without  making  any  invest- 
ments. He  had  owned  Charles  for  some  time,  and 
had  trained  him  in  betraying  and  catching  negroes 
much  as  a  shepherd  trains  his  dog  to  catch  runaway 
sheep.  Charles,  whenever  opportunity  presented,  got 
into  the  secrets  of  all  the  slaves  he  could ;  and,  under 
pretense  of  assisting  and  guiding  them  safely  over 
the  river,  would  betray  them  into  the  hands  of 
"  niger-catchers  " 

This  is  the  man  with  whom  arrangements  had  been 
made  to  conduct  Joe  and  his  party  across  the  river 
on  the  night  of  their  unsuccessful  attempt  to  escape. 
Johnson  had  informed  his  master  that  several  run- 
aways were  to  cross  the  river  under  his  direction, 
and  Mr.  Kerwin,  with  his  usual  readiness,  had  secured 
the  services  of  several  men  who  loaned  or  hired  them- 
selves out  as  a  nigger-catchers."  But,  by  the  guidance 
of  some  power  unknown  to  themselves  even,  Joe  and 


THE    ESCAPE.  63 

his  companions,  as  we  know,  were  kept  from  walking 
into  the  lion's  jaws.  After  traveling  all  night,  in 
place  of  being  in  the  hands  of  "  nigger  catchers,"  they 
found  themselves  standing  in  Biggers'  corn-field  gaz- 
ing at  a  white  bull. 

When  Sam  Lowrie,  who  formed  one  of  the  party, 
related  this  to  Joe,  he  was,  with  his  friends,  quite  over- 
come with  joy.  Then  he  thought  of  the  narrow  es- 
cape from  capture  they  had  made  and  of  his  mother's 
words.  Perhaps  Elva's  prayers  for  protection  had 
been  answered,  perhaps  not ;  but  the  result  speaks 
for  itself. 

The  personnel  of  the  little  band  of  heroes,  since  a 
week  ago,  when  they  attempted  to  escape,  is  consider- 
ably changed.  Some  had  refused  to  make  another 
effort,  thinking  they  would  be  captured;  while  others 
thought  their  lucky  escape  from  Johnson,  the  betrayer, 
and  Mr.  Kerwin,  the  ferryman,  was  ominous,  and, 
being  naturally  superstitious,  declined  all  overtures 
to  make  another  attempt.  The  only  ones  of  the 
original  band  were  Joe  and  his  brother,  Henry.  The 
number  had  been  reduced  to  five.  The  change  of 
men  was  also  decidedly  in  their  favor,  as  every  man 
was  a  fighting  man,  and  one  in  particular,  Ben  Myers, 
was  noted  throughout  the  neighborhood  for  his  wonder- 
ful strength.  Myers  was  quite  a  character,  being  in 
stature  a  modern  Goliah,  with  exceedingly  large  feet, 
large  hands,  and  very  large  lips,  the  latter  so  much 
so  that  they  interfered  greatly  with  his  articulation. 
His  speech  was  thick,  his  language  bad,  and,  being 


64  BOND   AND   FREE. 

fond  of  whisky,  he  was  a  bad  customer  to  come  in 
contact  with  at  this  particular  time.  The  time  hav- 
ing arrived  for  the  start,  Joe  bade  farewell  to  his 
mother  and  sisters.  Accompanied  by  his  friends,  he 
set  out  upon  his  perilous  journey.  They  traveled 
along  the  road  for  several  miles  unmolested,  and 
when  within  about  five  miles  of  the  ferry,  they  saw 
at  a  distance,  approaching  them,  a  single  horseman. 

As  Mr.  Johnson  had  come  near  betraying  them  be- 
fore, the  services  of  that  worthy  had  not  been  en- 
gaged ;  indeed,  every  precaution  had  been  taken  to 
conceal  all  knowledge  of  their  departure.  The  in- 
tention was  to  capture  the  ferry-boat  and  ferry  them- 
selves across,  knowing  that  no  one  but  Johnson  and 
his  master,  who  resided  some  half-mile  from  the  ferry, 
would  be  likely  to  interfere  with  them.  In  case  of 
such  interference,  either  one  or  both  of  those  gentle- 
men would  be  easily  disposed  of.  When  this  lone 
horseman  was  discovered,  Joe  gave  the  order,  "  Over 
the  fence,  boys  ! "  They  ali  obeyed,  leaving  Joe  in 
the  road.  As  the  horseman  approached,  Joe  dis- 
covered that  it  was  no  less  a  person  than  the  identi- 
cal Charles  Johnson,  the  negro  betrayer.  He  quietly 
awaited  Johnson's  approach.  When  Johnson  had 
reached  him,  he  stepped  out  in  front  of  the  horse,  and 
commanded  the  rider  to  halt. 

Mr.  Johnson  did  not  know  who  Joe  was,  and  was 
thus  at  a  disadvantage ;  as  he  had  no  idea  of  any 
violence  being  meant  him,  he  drew  up  his  horse  in 
obedience  to  the  command.  Joe  ordered  him  to  dis- 


THE   ESCAPE.  t)5 

mount,  which  command  he  was  somewhat  slow  in 
obeying.  Joe,  seeing  that  he  hesitated,  drew  from  his 
pocket  one  of  those  long-barrelled  pistols,  which  he 
presented  at  Johnson's  head,  and  again  commanded 
him  to  dismount.  Johnson  looked  down  the  barrel 
of  the  pistol,  then  looked  at  Joe,  and  seeing  nothing 
but  a  very  wicked  and  determined  look  in  his  eye, 
concluded  he  had  better  dismount,  or  this  determined- 
looking  man  might  make  a  target  of  him,  a  thing  he 
had  no  desire  for,  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  see  his 
best  girl.  Arriving  speedily  at  this  conclusion,  he 
quickly  dismounted.  Having  alighted  from  his  horse, 
he  began  to  wonder  whether  the  man.  who  stood  be- 
fore him  meant  to  steal  his  master's  horse,  or  whether 
he  was  playing  him  a  joke.  His  mind  was  soon  re- 
lieved. 

Joe  gave  a  low  whistle.  Over  the  fence  leaped  four 
as  stalwart  and  burly  negroes  as  ever  his  eye  beheld, 
and  whose  combined  value  would  have  made  the 
heart  of  any  "nigger-catcher"  bound  with  joy.  Joe 
said,  as  the  men  made  their  appearance : 

"  Boys,  this  is  Kerwin's  Johnson,  and  he  will  take 
us  across  the  river." 

Johnson  looked  somewhat  amazed  at  this  remark, 
as  well  he  might,  so  positively  and  coolly  was  it  made. 
He  began,  however,  to  set  his  wits,  to  work  at  once. 
Suspecting  these  men  to  be  runaway  slaves,  he  knew 
that  if  he  could  but  devise  some  plan  to  get  away 
from  them  and  secure  assistance,  they  could  all  be 
captured. 


66  BOND   AND    FREE. 

Assuming  the  guise  of  a  friend,  he  said  :  "Boys, 
you  lay  by  in  de  field  until  I  go  on  to  town  on  dis 
errand  Mars  Kerwin  has  sent  me,  and  when  I  come 
back,  I'll  take  you  across  all  safe." 

Johnson's  intention  was  too  evident  to  Joe,  who 
quickly  said, 

"No,  no,  my  boy,  you  can't  mount  dis  hoss  again, 
and  you  can't  go  to  town  until  you  take  us  across  de 
river.  I'se  going  to  ride  dis  hoss  myself,  and  you 
will  move  right  down  to  de  river." 

At  this,  he  jumped  into  the  saddle,  and  turned  the 
horse  around.  Johnson  was  placed  in  front  of  the 
party,  and  in  this  order  the  procession  moved  in  the 
direction  o'f  the  river. 

Having  reached  the  river,  Johnson  was  asked  how 
he  was  going  to  get  them  across.  They  agreed  to 
give  him  a  half  dollar  for  each  man.  He  saw  he 
was  entrapped,  but  he  again  resorted  to  strategy. 

He  said  that  there  was  no  boat  that  could  be 
secured,  unless  they  would  go  down  to  where  the 
ferry  was. 

Whereupon,  Joe  asked  how  far  away  was  the  ferry. 

'"Bout  half-mile,"  said  Johnson. 

"Now  look  here,  Johnson,"  said  Joe,  shaking  his 
finger  at  the  man  in  a  warning  manner,  "you  have 
got  to  git  us  across  dis  river,  and  we  want  to  cross 
right  here,  so  you  just  go  git  a  boat  and  bring  it 
here." 

Johnson  was  again  frustrated,  so  he  said :  "  I  doesn't 
know  but  one  place  to  git  a  boat,  and  dat's  just  above 


THE    ESCAPE.  67 

here ;  but  de  man  has  two  dogs  and  I'se  afraid  we 
might  git  caught.  Howsomever,  if  you  say  so,  I'll 
try  and  git  the  boat." 

"All  right,"  said  Joe,  "I'll  trust  you  to  go  forde 
boat,  but  mind  you,  110  fooling." 

Johnson  started  for  the  boat  The  men  stared  at 
Joe,  much  surprised  that  Johnson  was  allowed  to  go 
alone.  They  were  directed  to  conceal  themselves 
among  the  rocks.  Nothing  had  been  said  to  John- 
son to  lead  him  to  suspect  that  they  knew  he  was  a 
betrayer,  and  this  seeming  confidence  partially  dis- 
armed him.  While  he  would  have  liked  to  have 
been  instrumental  in  their  capture,  he  unhesitatingly 
went  and  secured  a  boat,  breaking  it  from  its  moor- 
ings. 

In  a  short  time,  the  men  heard  the  barking  of  the 
dogs,  and  Joe  said:  "Boys,  he's  there." 

One  of  them  suggested  that,  perhaps,  he  was  re- 
turning with  the  dogs  to  capture  them.  Joe  replied 
that  neither  him  nor  the  dogs  would  return  alive  if 
that  was  the  case.  Soon  there  was  heard  the  splash 
of  oars  in  the  water;  they  looked  out  from  their  place 
of  concealment,  and  discovered  Johnson  in  the  boat 
alone.  He  whistled,  and  they  picked  their  way  down 
the  bank  and  entered  the  boat. 

There  was  but  one  man  in  the  whole  party  who 
had  ever  seen  a  boat,  and  he  was  the  Widow  Dean's 
Jim.  Jim,  having  traveled  considerably  with  his 
mistress,  had  seen  many  things  which  none  of  the 
rest  had.  Some  of  my  readers  might  just  here  want 


68  BOND   AND   FREE. 

to  know  why  a  man,  having  the  privileges  of  Jim, 
should  want  to  leave  a  mistress  so  kind  and  indul- 
gent as  the  Widow  Dean,  and  go  out  into  the  world 
to  assume  responsibilities  of  which,  by  remaining  in 
slavery,  he  need  never  have  known.  He  left  a  good 
home,  a  generous-hearted  mistress.  He  knew  no  care ; 
every  day  to  him  was  the  same.  He  had  never  been 
whipped,  it  is  true,  and  so  far  as  his  life  had  gone,  it 
had  been  a  pleasant  one ;  but  Jim,  nevertheless,  real- 
ized that,  with  all  these  advantages  so  superior  to 
hundreds  whom  he  knew,  he  was  but  a  slave  and 
could  be  sold  at  any  time,  and  doubtless  would  be 
sold  as  a  part  of  the  estate  when  his  good  mistress 
should  die.  So  he  thought  he  would  risk  all  the 
perils  of  running  away  to  be  a  free  man.  Oh,  free- 
dom, what  a  boon ! 

Under  Jim's  direction,  they  were  safely  conveyed 
over  the  river.  As  they  stepped  upon  the  Maryland 
shore,  they  breathed  more  easily,  although  they  were 
far  from  being  in  a  free  land. 

Johnson  was  paid  the  promised  fee  of  fifty  cents 
a  man,  which  he  greedily  pocketed.  He  had  ascer- 
tained, while  crossing  the  river,  that  the  runaways  did 
not  know  what  direction  to  take.  This  he  suspected 
from  the  start  Upon  arriving  on  the  Maryland  side, 
he  conceived  the  brilliant  idea  in  his  woolly  head 
that  he  would  have  ample  chance  of  carrying  out  his 
evil  design  of  betraying  his  unfortunate  brethern. 
He  had  done  the  same  thing  before,  and  he  was  con- 
fident that  he  could  do  it  again.  This  is  what  made 


THE   ESCAPE.  69 

him  go  so  submissively  and  get  the  boat,  without 
arousing  the  owner ;  it  was  that  which  made  him  so 
civil  and  so  talkative  while  crossing  the  river.  The 
brilliant,  but  not  new,  idea  which  struck  Mr.  Johnson 
was,  to  land  his  party  safely  on  the  Maryland  shore, 
and  send  them  in  the  direction  of  a  tavern  kept  by  a 
Mr.  Nagle,  who  attached  to  his  business  of  caring  for 
travelers,  both  man  and  beast,  the  prolific  business 
of  capturing  runaway  slaves.  Many  a  runaway  slave 
had  been  captured  by  Mr.  Nagle  (and  his  coterie  of 
loafers  who  always  hung  about  his  place),  and  re- 
turned to  their  masters,  then  sold  South. 

Johnson  felt  perfectly  secure  in  the  belief  that  his 
civility  had  thrown  Joe  and  his  party  off  their  guard, 
and  thought  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to  direct 
them  in  the  course  which  he  desired.  The  party  hav- 
ing landed,  Joe  said  : 

"Now,  boys,  what  road  shall  we  take?" 

Without  waiting  for  any  one  else  to  answer,  John- 
son said, 

"  Why,  I  can  tell  you  just  what  way  to  go.  See 
dat  road  dat  leads  up  yonder?  Well,  just  foller  it 
until  you'se  come  to  de  Cross-Keys  tavern,  den 
you'se  take  de  road  dat  turns  to  de  left,  and  you'll 
reach  de  mountain." 

Now,  this  was  literally  true,  as  it  was  the  most  di- 
rect course  to  the  mountain.  But  there  was  as  little 
show  for  these  men  to  pass  the  Cross  Keys  tavern 
without  being  molested  as  it  is  possible  for  the  per- 
formance of  miracles  by  mortal  man.  Johnson  knew 


70  BOXD    AND    FREE. 

this  very  well,  and  repeated  his  instructions  over 
again,  evidently  fearing  they  might  not  be  heeded. 
Joe  assured  him  that  they  were  very  grateful  for  his 
advice,  and,  in  rather  a  persuasive  manner,  suggested 
that  he  had  better  take  his  boat  and  start  for  home. 
The  latter  said  that  he  did  not  intend  to  return  the 
boat  to  its  owner,  but,  upon  reaching  his  home,  would 
set  it  adrift. 

The  men  began  to  grow  impatient  at  the  delay 
caused  by  Joe  and  Johnson's  conversation,  and  insist- 
ed upon  moving  on.  Joe  did  not  comply  with  their 
request,  for  he  was  determined  to  see  Johnson  well 
out  in  the  river  before  he  made  any  attempt  to  leave 
the  bank.  He  had  already  decided  to  take  a  differ- 
ent direction  from  the  one  indicated  by  Johnson,  but 
he  desired  to  leave  that  worthy  under  the  impression 
that  implicit  confidence  was  placed  in  his  word.  Ben 
Myers,  to  whom  we  have  had  occasion  to  refer  before, 
was  impatiently  walking  up  and  down  the  river  bank 
growling  like  a  caged  beast.  That  portion  of  Mr. 
Myers'  body  which  rested  on  the  ground  was  encased 
in  a  very  dilapidated  pair  of  brogans,  which  were  un- 
fastened, while  on  his  arm  he  carried  a  very  large  and 
heavy  pair  of  new  boots.  His  inseparable  whisky 
bottle  was  beginning  to  grow  empty,  and  he  was  much 
afraid  that  he  would  be  taken  with  a  dry  spell  before 
they  reached  the  tavern.  He  took  off  the  dilapidated 
straw  hat  which  covered  his  head,  raised  his  bottle 
to  his  lips,  and  drained  the  last  drop  of  its  contents 
down  his  throat.  Smacking  his  lips  with  evident  sat- 


THE   ESCAPE.  71 

isfaction  and  drawing  the  back  of  his  hand  across  his 
mouth,  he  was  then  in  an  excellent  disposition  to 
growl. 

So  he  said,  in  his  thick  speech : 

"'  Look  har,  Joe,  if  you  gwine  to  trabel  any  f udder, 
why  don't  you  come  on  ?  You'se  worse  den  a  fly 
'round  lasses."  "Myers,"  said  Joe,  "  dem  old  shoes 
and  dat  whisky  bottle  will  git  you  into  trouble  yet" 

Myers  gazed  at  Joe  in  a  stupid  kind  of  way,  and 
replied:  "  Dat's  all  right,  I'se  gwine  to  git  dat  bottle 
filled  soon's  I  git  to  dat  tabern,  and  I  wants  to  git 
darsoon." 

Johnson  had  not  yet  gotten  into  his  boat,  and  Joe 
was  somewhat  at  a  loss  what  to  do.  Seeing  that  their 
guide  was  loath  to  part  with  them,  he  said  : 

"Johnson,  I  think,  as  we  are  done  with  you,  you 
had  better  cross  de  river.  If  you  dont  start  soon, 
day  light  will  catch  you,  and  somebody  will  see  you 
with  dat  stolen  boat." 

Johnson  knew  this  was  true.  He  had  no  desire  to  be 
caught  with  a  stolen  boat,  for  if  he  failed  to  entrap 
these  runaways,  he  might  have  difficulty  in  explain- 
ing his  absence  and  the  use  he  had  been  making  of 
the  boat.  So  telling  Joe  that  he  guessed  he  was  right, 
Mr.  Johnson  very  loathfully  parted  company  with 
the  party,  and  began  to  row  himself  back  into  slavery, 
where  he  would  be  useful  in  betraying  those  of  his 
race,  whom  he  would  be  fortunate  enough  to  meet 
while  running  for  freedom. 

Joe  watched  the  boat  until  it  was  well  out  into  the 


72  BOND   AND   FREE. 

river, and  turning  to  his  companions,  he  said,  "Boys, 
we  will  not  pass  dat  tabern,  for  if  we  do,  we  may  all 
be  captured.  I  heard  of  dat  place  before." 

These  remarks  brought  about  a  disagreement ; 
Henry,  Joe's  brother,  insisted  on  going  the  direction 
pointed  out  by  Johnson.  In  this  he  was  ably  second 
ed  by  Myers,  whose  desire  to  reach  the  tavern  and 
fill  his  bottle  over-reached  the  little  discretion  he  po- 
sessed.  Joe  finally  covninced  them  of  the  foolhardi- 
ness  of  such  a  thing,  and  consequently  carried  his 
point 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ATTACKED. 

The  reader  cannot  help  but  discover  by  this  time, 
that,  as  a  leader,  Joe  was  quite  a  success,  using  a  vast 
amount  of  tact  and  forethought  for  which  the  casual 
observer  would  never  have  given  him  credit  He 
was  probably  the  most  determined  one  in  the  whole 
party  upon  securing  freedom.  His  brother,  Henry, 
was,  on  the  other  hand,  timid  and  shy,  lacking  the 
resolution  which  Joe  possessed ;  but,  when  awakened 
to  a  full  realization  of  what  was  expected  of  him, 
never  hesitated  to  perform  his  duty. 

Mr.  Nagle,  the  keeper  of  the  Cross  Keys  tavern, 
kept  upon  his  place,  to  assist  him  in  tracking  and 
catching  runaway  slaves,  besides  a  number  of  loafers 
ever  ready  to  engage  in  this  nefarious  business,  two 
keen -scented  and  ferocious  bloodhounds,  and  had  Joe 
given  way  to  the  importunities  of  Henry  and  Myers, 
every  one  of  the  party  would  have  been  captured  by 
Mr.  Nagle,  his  loafers,  and  his  bloodhounds.  As  it 
was,  they  took  a  different  direction,  and  traveled 
through  the  State  of  Maryland  without  a  single  excit- 
ing incident  Having  crossed  the  Pennsylvania  line 
and  after  having  traveled,  perhaps,  some  thirty-odd 
miles,  they  left  the  road  for  consultation.  Retiring  into 
a  woods,  they  discussed  the  question  of  traveling  by 
daylight;  they  had  hitherto  been  traveling  only  at 

(73) 


74  BOND    AND    FKEE. 

night,  and  during  the  day  had  concealed  themselves. 
It  was  finally  decided  to  travel  by  day,  as  they  were 
in  Pennsylvania,  which,  they  understood,  was  a  free 
State,  and  the  likelihood  of  being  molested  did  not 
give  them  any  apprehension. 

Now,  could  these  men  have  had  recourse  to  those 
great  resources  of  information,  the  newspapers,  or  if 
they  could  have  kept  track  of  the  political  events  of 
the  day,  they  would  have  been  more  apprehensive  of 
their  safety  in  this  presumably  free  State.  This  is 
not  a  record  of  political  events,  and  we  shall  not 
undertake  to  give  any  detailed  account  of  the  steps 
which  led  to  the  enactment  of  a  law,  making  every 
white  man  of  the  North  a  blood  hound  and  negro- 
hunter  for  the  white  men  of  the  South.  The  Consti- 
tution of  the  country  was  prostituted  for  more  than 
a  century  by  the  men  who  favored,  supported,  and 
encouraged  slavery.  Those  high  in  authority,  who 
submitted  to  the  demands  of  the  South,  in  her  vigor- 
ous efforts  to  extend  and  protect  slavery,  have  long 
since  met  with  the  just  condemnation  of  all  honest 
men.  The  effort  to  make  the  people  of  the  North 
servants  to  the  people  of  the  South,  in  aiding  them 
to  secure  their  runaway  slaves,  was  only  too  success- 
ful ;  and,  when  the  free  people  of  this  great  country 
found  that  the  man  holding  the  highest  position  in 
the  gift  of  the  Nation  was  an  abettor  and  sympa- 
thizer in  the  extension  and  protection  of  slavery,  they 
shed  many  bitter  tears.  The  Fugitive  Slave  Act, 
which  permitted  a  man  to  prove  his  property  in  any 


ATTACKED.  75 

part  of  the  United  States  and  take  it,  also  making 
the  man  who  refused  to  aid  in  this  nefarious  business 
a  criminal  before  the  law,  was  now  in  existence. 
When  the  Old  World  learned  of  the  birth  of  a  New 
Nation,  there  was  great  rejoicing.  Its  still,  small 
voice  was  heard  to  proclaim  that  "  every  man  was 
born  free  and  equal,"  yet  it  took  nearly  a  century  and 
a  bloody  civil  contest  to  establish  firmly  its  first  pro- 
nunciamento. 

We  say,  had  these  fugitives  been  acquainted  with 
the  political  events  of  the  country,  they  would  not 
have  been  surprised  at  experiencing  their  first  repulse 
in  free  Pennsylvania. 

Having  already  gotten  some  distance  within  the 
borders  of  the  State  without  molestation,  they  traveled 
along  in  gay  spirits,  their  minds  fixed  upon  gaining 
liberty.  At  a  considerable  distance  ahead  of  them, 
they  saw  several  men  engaged  in  building  a  barn. 
Joe  at  once  directed  them  to  answer  any  question  put 
to  them  as  to  their  destination  by  saying,  that  they 
were  bound  for  the  springs  as  waiters.  They  ap- 
proached the  barn-builders  fearlessly,  and,  upon  reach- 
ing them,  were  asked  by  one  of  the  workmen  where 
they  were  going.  Joe,  in  reply,  answered,  "To  de 
springs  to  wait  table,  sar." 

There  were,  perhaps,  some  twenty  men  engaged  at 
work  upon  the  barn.  It  was  what  is  called  a  build- 
ing-bee— an  economical  plan  farmers  had  of  expedi- 
ting work.  Working  bees  of  all  kinds  were  numer- 
ous. Moving-bees,  corn-husking,  fruit-parings,  etc., 


76  BOND   AND    FKEE. 

were  done  by  a  farmer  inviting  his  neighbors  to 
assist  him.  When  the  work  was  finished,  a  big  din- 
ner was  served,  and  the  country  lass  and  lad  would 
help  digestion  by  a  good  old-fashioned  dance.  Joe's 
answer  to  the  question  of  the  workmen  appeared  to 
satisfy  them. 

Among  the  few  privileges  enjoyed  by  some  slaves 
was  that  of  hiring  their  own  time  from  their  masters ; 
in  such  cases,  they  were  permitted  to  seek  employ- 
ment at  whatever  they  saw  fit  to  engage.  Many  of 
them  were  employed  at  the  various  summer  resorts 
as  waiters,  and  would  travel  on  foot  in  search  of  em- 
ployment To  their  masters  they  paid  so  much  of 
their  earnings  as  was  demanded  of  them,  and  the 
rest  was  spent,  generally,  in  riotous  living,  but  in  a 
few  instances  was  used  to  purchase  their  freedom. 

Having  passed  the  barn-builders  unmolested,  they 
had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance  when  they  were 
overtaken  by  a  man  seated  upon  a  gray  horse.  The 
individual  accosted  them  with  a  salutation.  He  was 
tall  and  lank,  with  a  dark  complexion,  a  nose  much 
resembling  the  beak  of  a  bird,  a  pair  of  exceedingly 
long  limbs,  which  dangled  below  the  body  of  the 
horse.  His  eyes  were  perfectly  gray,  while  his  lip 
appeared  as  though  drawn  up  to  meet  his  nose,  ex- 
posing two  very  large  teeth,  and  giving  him  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  hungry  jackal,  while  his  dress  was  that 
of  a  sheep  drover.  Drawing  in  the  lines  which  hung 
on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  he  inquired  where  they 
were  going.  Joe  gave  him  the  same  reply  he  had 


ATTACKED.  77 

given  the  barn-builders,  but  did  not  get  rid  of  him 
quite  so  easily. 

The  rider  eyed  them  closely,  as  he  said :  "Ain't  you 
rather  early  for  the  springs?  " 

Joe  answered :  "Yes,  sar,  a  little  early,  but  we  want 
to  be  in  good  time." 

"  Where  are  you  from?  "  asked  the  stranger. 

"Philadelphia,"  replied  Joe. 

Now,  where  Joe  got  his  knowledge  of  Philadel- 
phia, it  is  hard  to  say  ;  unless  from  the  fact  that  he 
was  told  that  they  were  on  the  Philadelphia  pike. 
The  geographical  knowledge  of  the  entire  party  could 
not  have  located  any  such  place.  Henry,  who  had 
been  standing  to  one  side  of  the  road  eyeing  the 
rider's  horse,  and  noticing  it  to  be  somewhat  lame, 
came  forward,  and  said  : 

"  Your  horse's  got  a  ringbone." 

"Yes,"  said  the  rider,  "and  I  would  give  a  hun- 
dred dollars  to  have  it  cured." 

"I  can  cure  it,"  said  Henry. 

"  Then  you  are  the  man  I  am  looking  for.  I  will 
pay  your  expenses  at  the  next  inn,  and  give  you 
twenty -five  dollars  in  the  bargain  if  you  cure  him." 

Henry  had  a  fair  knowledge  of  horses,  and  was 
not  making  a  vain  boast  when  he  told  the  stranger 
that  lie  could  cure  the  horse. 

Joe  was  a  listener  to  the  conversation,  and  was 
afraid  his  brother  would  stop  to  accept  the  offer.  He 
was  not  altogether  pleased  with  the  man's  manner, 
as  he  had,  generally,  but  little  confidence  in  white  men. 


78  BOND   AND    FREE. 

He  held  his  peace,  however,  but  concluded  not  to 
allow  his  brother  to  accept  the  man's  proposition. 
Joe  finally  said,  after  having  walked  some  distance, 
the  rider  keeping  his  horse  at  a  walking  pace: 

"  Ain't  you  a  sheep  drover?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man.     "  Why?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing,  only  I  thought  so  from  de  clothes 
you  wear." 

This  was  not  what  Joe  really  thought,  for  after 
having  closely  inspected  the  man,  it  came  to  him  like 
a  dream  that  he  had  seen  him  before.  He  had  seen 
this  very  man  purchasing  sheep  from  a  man  with 
whom  he  once  lived,  and  he  knew  that  in  addition 
to  driving  sheep  he  also  drove  slaves,  that  he  had 
caught  a  number  of  runaway  slaves,  for  which  he 
had  been  well  rewarded. 

The  man  on  horse  back  then  said:  "  Don't  you  men 
want  to  make  a  little  money  ?  You  are  a  little  early 
for  the  springs,  and  I  want  about  a  half-dozen  men 
to  help  me  to  gather  some  sheep  through  the  country 
and  drive  them  to  market.  If  you  want  the  job,  I 
will  pay  each  of  you  fifty  cents  a  day." 

Joe  knew  that  the  man  was  only  talking  to  pass 
the  time,  as  they  were  fast  nearing  a  little  village 
where,  he  surmised,  it  was  the  intention  of  the  stran- 
ger to  obtain  assistance  and  endeavor  to  capture  them. 

Answering  for  the  party,  he  said:  "  No,  sar,  we 
want  to  keep  on  trabelin',  and  don't  want  to  stop." 
Whereupon,  the  stranger  said:  "Well,  good  day," 
and  galloped  off  at  a  rapid  pace,  his  legs  dangling  on 


ATTACKED.  79 

either  side  of  his  horse.  They  saw  him  stop  at  some 
distance  ahead  of  them  and  engage  in  conversation 
with  a  woman  standing  at  a  gate.  When  the  party 
got  within  hearing  distance  of  the  rider  and  woman, 
they  heard  the  stranger  say,  "  Tell  them  to  come  on 
as  fast  as  they  can,  and  meet  me  at  the  Lion's  Head." 

Joe  said :  "  Boys,  dar's  trouble  ahead.  We  can't 
leave  de  road  ;  dar's  a  town  ahead,  and  we  must  pass 
through  it,  so  git  ready  to  fight." 

The  irascible  Mr.  Myers,  the  gentleman  of  large 
feet,  large  hands,  and  large  mouth,  with  a  large  love 
for  the  ardent,  had  been  discontented  and  greatly  out 
of  humor  ever  since  Joe's  refusal  to  pass  Mr.  Nagle's 
hostelrie.  His  bottle  had  been  emptied  for  some 
time,  and  the  desire  for  something  more  ardent  than 
water  had  put  him  in  very  bad  humor,  making  him 
very  ugly.  He  still  carried  his  new  boots  thrown 
carelessly  over  his  shoulder,  while  his  stringless, 
tongueless,  and  thoroughly  dilapidated  shoes  partly 
covered  his  enormous  feet. 

When  Joe  said  they  would  have  to  fight,  Myers 
growled  out,  "  Ise  gwine  to  hab  dis  bottle  filled  at 
dat  tabrn,  if  I  has  to  walk  ober  de  body  ob  some 
'white  man  to  git  it." 

Joe  again  repeated  his  warning  that  Myers'  bottle 
and  shoes  would  yet  get  him  in  trouble. 

"Never  mind  me,  honey,"  was  his  reply.  "No 
white  man's  gwine  to  weary  dese  bones  widout  hearin' 
dem  crack."  As  Myers  said  this  he  took  a  hitch  at 
his  pantaloons,  rolled  an  enormous  quid  of  tobacco  to 


80  BOND   AND   FKEE. 

the  other  side  of  his  capacious  mouth,  and,  with  the 
swing  of  a  rollicking  tar,  proceeded  rapidly  in 
silence,  with  but  a  single  thought  disturbing  his 
rather  stupid  mind.  That  thought  was  to  reach  the 
inn  as  speedily  as  possible  and  get  his  bottle  filled. 

The  village  which  the  runaways  were  approaching 
could  hardly  be  termed  such,  as  it  consisted  only  of 
a  tavern,  a  blacksmith's  shop,  and  some  five  or  six 
houses.  The  Lion's  Head  inn  stood  back  several  feet 
from  the  road.  In  front  of  it  was  a  watering- trough 
and  a  long  rail  used  for  hitching  horses.  At  one  end 
was  a  mounting-stone ;  and  a  short  distance  from  this 
was  one  of  the  few  houses.  The  blacksmith  shop 
stood  between  the  Lion's  Head  and  a  lane  which  had 
to  be  passed  before  reaching  the  inn,  coming  from  the 
direction  in  which  the  runaways  were.  When  they 
reached  the  smith's  shop,  the  stranger  had  left  the 
smith  and  his  helper,  having  rode  on  to  the  inn,  where 
he  dismounted,  and  went  inside,  engaging  in  conver- 
sation with  the  inn-keeper.  Joe  was  in  the  lead  and 
would  have  kept  right  on,  believing  that  the  stranger, 
in  stopping  to  speak  to  the  woman  and  the  smith, 
had  concocted  a  plan  for  their  capture.  As  he  passed 
the  inn  door,  the  stranger  who  had  accosted  them  on 
the  road  stepped  to  the  door  and  hailed  the  party, 
asking  them  in  to  take  something  to  drink.  None 
of  them,  except  Joe,  needed  the  second  invitation. 
He  remained  outside,  while  the  rest  entered  the  inn. 
The  stranger  called  to  him  to  come  in,  but  he  refused, 
saying  that  he  did  not  drink. 


ATTACKED.  81 

Mr.  Myers'  face  was  wreathed  in  smiles,  as  he  tossed 
off  several  good  stiff  drinks  of  old  corn- juice.  Whis- 
ky was  cheap  then.  A  man  could  get  three  drinks  of 
better  liquor  for  the  same  amount  that  he  has  to  pay 
now  for  one.  Myers  did  not  neglect  to  fill  his  bottle, 
which  he  stowed  away  in  a  pocket  of  his  dilapidated 
coat.  After  drinking,  they  all  stood  upon  the  little 
balcony  which  surrounded  the  inn.  The  stranger 
who  had  shown  such  kindness  stepped  out  upon  the 
balcony  and  said  to  Henry:  "Now,  my  young  man, 
show  me  how  to  cure  that  ringbone."  Henry  walked 
out  to  the  horse,  and  began  to  display  his  knowledge 
of  curing  the  ills  of  dumb  animals.  Joe  walked  out 
into  the  road,  and,  as  he  looked  toward  the  black- 
smith's shop,  he  saw  the  smith  and  his  assistant 
armed  with'  stout  pieces  of  iron,  while  up  the  road 
came  about  a  dozen  men  provided  with  sticks,  clubs, 
stones,  and  whatever  other  implements  they  could 
procure. 

He  shouted,  "Boys,  look  behind  you!"  Henry- 
glanced  over  his  shoulder,  at  once  dropped  the  horse's 
foot,  and  made  a  break  for  the  road.  Joe  took  to  a 
field,  and  the  rest  of  the  runaways  scattered  in  differ- 
ent directions.  Liquor  had  so  far  overcome  the 
senses  of  Myers  that  he  was  grabbed  by  the  affable 
stranger,  the  rider  of  the  ringbone  horse,  who  in- 
formed him  that  he  was  a  runaway  and  he  was  going 
to  return  him  to  his  master.  Myers  partly  opened 
his  eves,  and  was  rather  slow  in  taking  in  the  situa- 


82  BOND    AXD    FKEE. 

tion.  He  had,  however,  retained  his  hold  upon  his 
club,  which  he  grasped  more  firmly,  and  said : 
"Look,  heah,  white  man,  let  me  go." 
The  rider  of  the  ringbone  horse  said:  "Yes, 
I'll  let  you  go,  you  d — d  nigger,"  and,  as  if  to 
assure  Myers  of  his  attention,  tightened  his  grip  on 
his  collar.  Myers  raised  his  club  and  brought  it 
down  on  the  arm  of  his  captor.  The  rider  of  the 
ringbone  horse  relinquished  his  hold  without  being 
told  the  second  time,  and  that  member  of  his  anatomy 
dropped  limp  and  lifeless  at  his  side,  while  he  gave 
utterance  to  a  howl  which  would  have  done  justice  to 
a  cayote.  Myers  put  off  at  a  rapid  rate,  with  stones 
flying  after  him,  and  all  the  dogs  and  men  in  the 
place  close  upon  his  heels.  His  slipshod  shoes  and 
the  whisky  he  had  imbibed  greatly  retarded  his 
progress.  He  ran  very  swiftly,  however,  and,  reach- 
ing a  hill,  he  attempted  to  ascend  it,  but  lost  his  foot- 
ing and  fell.  In  a  moment  a  half-dozen  men  were 
upon  him;  they  quickly  secured  and  bound  him 
with  a  rope,  and  marched  him  back  to  the  inn  trium- 
phantly. 

He  was  placed  upon  a  bench  at  the  door,  while  his 
captors  withdrew  to  decide  how  to  dispose  of  him. 
They  knew  that  a  large  reward  would  be  offered  for 
him,  for  he  was  worth  fully  fifteen  or  eighteen  hun- 
dred of  any  man's  money.  Sam  Ely  the,  a  big-boned, 
double- jointed  fellow,  had  been  left  to  do  guard  duty 
over  Myers.  Blythe  walked  up  and  down  in  front  of 
him,  thinking  he  was  so  securely  bound  that  he  would 


ATTACKED.  83 

not  attempt  to  escape,  and  depended  upon  his  own 
ability  to  prevent  him  should  he  make  any  such  at- 
tempt. Seeing  the  captive  move  about  rather  uneasily, 
he  walked  up  to  Myers,  and  said  : 

"  See  here,  nigger,  none  of  yer  shines  around  here. 
If  you  don't  keep  quiet,  I  will  thump  your  head. 
Do  ye  hear?" 

Myers  said  nothing,  but  jumped  to  his  feet,  with 
a  superhuman  effort  freed  his  hands,  and  dealt  Blythe 
a  blow  that  sent  that  worthy  sprawling  into  the  road, 
and  made  him  swallow  a  quid  of  tobacco  that  came 
near  choking  him  to  death.  With  a  bound  like  a 
deer,  Myers  made  for  the  nearest  field  and  cleared  the 
fence,  having  left  his  much-worn  shoes  on  the  hotel 
porch  as  a  memento  for  the  disappointed  "nigger- 
catchers." 

Leaving  our  band  of  runaways  to  proceed  on  their 
journey  to  freedom,  after  this  escapade,  separated 
and  divided  as  they  now  were,  let  us  return  to  the 
Maxwell  plantation,  and  see  what  changes  the  fickle 
goddess  of  fortune  has  wrought. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
Two  HAPPY  FATHEKS. 

Events  on  the  Maxwell  plantation  now  begin  to 
change,  as  events  will  in  life.  Jonathan  continued 
prosperous  and  successful,  the  loss  of  Joe  and  Henry 
soured  his  disposition  and  aroused  a  spirit  of  hatred 
toward  his  half-sister,  Purcey,  whom  he  believed  had 
aided  and  abetted  in  the  escape  of  her  brothers.  At 
one  time,  he  had  partly  made  up  his  mind  to  sell 
Purcey,  but  the  prospect  of  her  giving  birth  to  a 
child  at  an  early  period  deterred  him  in  his  intention. 
Had  he  not  married  her  to  William  McCullar  for  this 
very  purpose?  It  was  not  likely,  then,  that  Jona- 
than Maxwell  would  allow  his  hatred  of  the  girl  to 
exceed  his  love  of  increased  wealth. 

Large  rewards  had  been  offered  for  both  Joe  and 
Henry,  but  in  vain,  as  they  had  both  made  good  their 
escape  into  freedom.  Notwithstanding  the  great 
val  ue  they  were  to  their  master,  Jonathan  never  con- 
descended to  mention  to  Purcey  or  Elva  his  feelings, 
but  had  put  them  through  a  most  searching  investi- 
gation as  to  their  knowledge  of  the  runaways.  Both 
so  successfully  pleaded  ignorance  as  to  their  where- 
abouts or  any  knowledge  of  the  intention  of  the  boys 
to  escape,  that  he  soon  gave  up  the  idea  of  learning 
anything  from  them.  He,  however,  as  we  have  said, 

(84) 


THE    HAPPY   FATHERS.  85 

offered  a  handsome  reward  for  their  capture,  and,  in 
company  with  Mr.  Biggers  and  the  others  who  were 
the  losers  of  so  many  dollars  and  cents,  by  the  sudden 
and  unceremonious  departure  of  their  alleged  prop- 
erty, organized  a  "nigger"  hunting  party.  Accom- 
panied by  several  blood  hounds,  they  set  out  in 
speedy  but  useless  pursuit.  The  runaways  had  such 
a  start  that  they  were  far  out  of  reach  of  their  pur- 
suers, even  before  they  got  under  way.  The  party 
returned  home  in  a  few  days,  after  the  unsuccessful 
effort  to  capture  the  runaways,  and  Jonathan  Max- 
well settled  down  to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  Joe  and 
Henry  as  best  he  could.  Mr.  Biggers  cursed  louder 
and  drove  his  slaves  harder,  while  their  meager  rations 
reached  almost  ad  infinitum. 

William  and  Purcey  enjoyed  life,  happy  in  each 
other's  society,  indeed,  forgetting  all  about  the  hard- 
ness of  their  lot,  and  utterly  oblivious  of  the  fact 
that  nothing  of  them  was  free  except  their  souls. 
Their  time,  their  bodies,  it  seemed  their  very  happi- 
ness, belonged  to  Jonathan  Maxwell ;  and  they  must 
act  in  obedience  to  his  commands  whenever  he  saw 
fit  now  to  exercise  his  prerogative  as  master.  He 
believed  within  his  heart  that  Purcey,  or  her  mother, 
had  been  instrumental  in  the  escape  of  the  two  boys, 
and  he  concluded  that  to  leave  William  upon  the 
place  subject  to  such  influence  would  ultimately  re- 
sult in  his  escape  also.  Not  wishing  to  sell  him  just 
at  this  time,  he  resorted  to  the  next  most  profitable 


86  BOND   AND    FREE. 

thing,  and  hired  him  out  some  distance  from  home  to 
a  severe  master. 

Jake  Withers,  to  whom  William  was  hired,  was  the 
rival  of  Abraham  Biggers  in  meanness  and  cruelty. 
He  was  known  to  be  so  conniving  and  penurious  as  to 
have  picked  up  a  few  grains  of  wheat  found  in  the 
field  after  cutting,  and  put  them  into  his  pocket  until 
he  reached  the  granary.  He  was  known  to  have  kicked 
a  little  negro  child  over  a  four  rail  fence,  because  of 
its  plucking  a  few  flowers  out  of  his  garden.  He  had 
not  as  much  feeling  for  a  negro  as  he  had  for  a  mule. 
He  allowed  those  about  him  no  holidays.  Over  those 
whom  he  hired  from  other  masters  he  had  complete 
control,  and  those  whom  he  owned  belonged  to  him, 
in  his  estimation,  body  and  soul.  William  was  now 
made  to  feel,  for  the  first  time,  what  it  was  to  be  mar- 
ried and  yet  have  no  wife.  He  was  several  miles 
from  Purcey,  and  could  only  visit  her  after  finishing 
his  work  at  night,  and  was  compelled  to  be  back  at 
his  post  before  day -break.  The  first  bitter  dregs  of 
his  cup  of  woe  he  began  to  taste.  His  wife,  night 
after  night,  lay  awake  watching  the  hours,  while  he 
obtained  a  short  rest  preparatory  to  his  return  to  his 
labors.  More  than  a  year  had  now  passed  since  their 
marriage,  and  Providence  saw  fit  to  bless,  or,  in  a 
sense,  curse  them  with  a  son.  William,  entirely  un- 
mindful of  his  situation,  felt  that  natural  pride  ex- 
perienced by  most  fathers  over  their  first-born. 
About  the  same  time,  Jonathan  Maxwell  also  be- 
came the  father  of  a  son ;  but  his  happiness,  having 


THE   HAPPY    FATHERS.  87 

wealth  and  freedom,  did  not  exceed  that  of  William 
McCullar  in  poverty  and  bondage. 

Purcey  became  the  nurse  of  Jonathan's  offspring, 
as  custom  decreed.  No  lady  of  Southern  blood  ever 
condescended  to  raise  her  own  child.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  was  invariably  entrusted  to  the  care  of  a 
negro  nurse,  who  suckled  it  from  her  breast  with  all 
the  tenderness  of  a  mother ;  and  she  was  expected  to 
rear  and  mature  with  care  the  very  child  that  would, 
perhaps,  some  day  raise  its  hands  to  stripe  her  back, 
or  set  a  price  upon  her  head,  and  sell  her  as  it  would 
any  other  chattel.  It  might  have  been  among  the 
many  providential  things  for  this  child  of  Jonathan 
Maxwell  to  have  suckled  some  of  the  milk  of  human 
kindness  from  the  bosom  of  this  black  nurse.  It  seems 
that  nature  itself  would  have  engrafted  some  of  the 
seeds  of  human  love  for  her  who  so  tenderly  nour- 
ished it,  watched  over  it,  and  relieved  its  mother  of 
all  the  cares  of  its  early  childhood.  But  this  was 
custom,  this  was  duty :  what  Purcey  did  for  Jona- 
than's child  Elva  had  done  for  Jonathan ;  and  thou- 
sands of  the  most  cruel  slave-holders  have  been 
reared  at  the  breast  of  those  whom  they  afterward 
made  suffer  the  tortures  of  slavery.  There  have 
been  those  in  this  world  who  have  been  called  in- 
grates,  but  what  shall  we  call  those  who  fed  upon  the 
bosom  of  a  human  being,  suckled  themselves  into 
existence,  were  nursed  with  tenderness  and  care,  then 
striped  the  back  which  bent  so  often  over  them  in 
anxiety  ? 


88  BOND   AND   FREE. 

William  McCullar,  the  slave-father,  gave  to  his 
child  the  promise  of  an  inheritance  of  servitude,  of 
serving  a  living  master,  deprived  of  manhood,  de- 
prived of  knowledge,  with  no  hope  for  the  present, 
and  in  future  life,  perhaps,  to  curse  bittterly  the 
mother  that  gave  him  birth ;  while  Jonathan  Max- 
well, the  free  father,  gave  to  his  child  the  inheritance 
of  a  rich  estate,  knowledge,  bright  hopes  for  the 
future,  with  possibly  no  care  for  the  past.  Such  are 
the  circumstances  under  which  these  two  children  enter 
the  world.  But  an  over-ruling  Providence  guided 
the  footsteps  of  the  one,  while  an  over-ruling  passion 
directed  those  of  the  other ;  and  their  lives  were  as 
entirely  diversified  as  was  their  birth.  It  will  be  re- 
membered that  Elva  had  interposed  but  a  single  ob- 
jection to  the  marriage  of  Purcey,  and  when  you  re- 
member the  excellent  judgment  of  the  woman,  her 
objection  will  not  be  looked  upon  as  unreasonable. 
Objections  are  often  raised  by  parents  against  their 
daughters'  entering  into  the  bonds  of  matrimony,  and 
often  are  they  well  founded ;  but  in  few  instances  are 
they  respected.  With  Elva  it  was  no  vain  thought. 
It  was  not  because  she  feared  an  unequal  match,  but, 
as  she  told  William  when  he  informed  her  of  his 
purchase  by  Jonathan  Maxwell,  that  she  detested 
the  idea  of  such  a  marriage,  because  his  children 
would  be  born  slaves.  This  is  why  she  objected; 
and  from  the  day  it  took  place,  she  constantly  kept 
before  Purcey  the  horrifying  idea  of  Master  Jona- 
than's changing  disposition,  which  might  lead  to  his 


THE   HAPPY   FATHERS.  89 

separating  the  mother  and  child  by  selling  one  or 
the  other.  And  well  she  might,  for  it  was  not  long 
before  a  most  unusual  change  took  place  in  the  Max- 
well household. 

Mrs.  Maxwell's  health  began  to  fail  her  after  the 
birth  of  her  son,  and  the  family  physician  directed 
that  she  travel.  Purcey  was  selected  to  accompany 
her,  and  attend  young  Master  Archie.  This  was  the 
command,  and  nothing  was  left  her  but  to  obey.  Her 
child,  her  husband,  and  her  mother — all  had  to  be 
left  that  her  mistress  might  find  restored  health  in 
another  clime.  All  preparations  were  made  for  the 
journey,  and  bidding  farewell  to  all  that  was  dear  to 
her,  Purcey  set  out  upon  the  journey  with  her  mis- 
tress. Mrs.  Maxwell's  failing  health  did  not  improve 
her  disposition,  which  was  none  of  the  sweetest  at 
best,  and  the  many  annoyances  she  gave  Purcey 
caused  the  girl  to  shed  many  a  bitter  tear.  While 
upon  this  journey,  she  determined,  upon  her  return, 
to  make  her  escape  with  her  husband  and  child  into 
freedom. 

Master  Archie  grew  into  a  bright-eyed,  yellow- 
haired,  spiteful  little  fellow,  developing  rnuch  of  his 
father's  haughtiness  and  pride,  and  all  of  his  mother's 
hatefulness.  To  his  nurse  he  was  impudent,  and 
often,  in  a  passion,  struck  her  with  his  little  fist,  an 
offense  for  which  Purcey  dared  not  correct  him,  and 
at  which  his  mother  only  laughed.  They  were  absent 
for  many  months,  which  seemed  to  Purcey  years, 
and  when  Mrs.  Maxwell,  feeling  that  her  health  was 


90  BOND   AND   FKEE. 

greatly  improved,  set  her  face  toward  home,  Purcey's 
heart  leaped  for  joy.  Her  long  separation  from  her 
husband  and  child  made  her  feel  keenly  what  misery 
would  be  hers  should  either  be  sold.  Consolation 
came  to  her,  however,  under  the  present  circum- 
stances, as  a  sweetened  draught,  from  the  fact  that 
she  would  soon  see  them. 

During  her  long  absence,  she  had  no  communica- 
tion whatever,  from  her  child  or  husband.  No  letters 
had  come  to  assure  her  of  their  health  and  love,  not 
even  a  word.  For  while  Purcey  could  manage  to 
write  intelligibly  herself,  she  knew  that  there  was  no 
one  at  home  to  read  her  letters  to  William.  Who 
can  imagine  what  this  feeling  must  be,  separated  from 
those  we  love  most  dear,  knowing  that  the  means  of 
communication  are  accessible,  but  from  the  want  of 
the  knowledge  to  interpret  one's  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings, to  be  comparatively  consumed  in  the  fire  of  de- 
sire for  a  message,  but  a  word,  to  receive  or  give, 
but  a  single  sign  of  the  inward  passion !  Confine 
a  person  in  prison  where  the  custom  deprives 
him  of  intercourse  with  the  outside  world,  he 
gradually  submits  to  such  restriction ;  but  when  left 
to  enjoy  the  open  air,  to  gaze  upon  the  brightness 
and  the  beauty  of  nature,  free  to  breathe  the  balmy  air 
of  Heaven,  yet  unable  to  communicate  with  those  he 
loves,  there  is  a  suffering  which  words  cannot  depict 
This  was  one  of  the  few  sufferings  through  which 
Purcey  passed.  Strong  and  proud  as  she  was,  it 
weakened  her  and  brought  her  to  a  keener  realiza- 


THE    HAPPY   FATHERS.  91 

tion  of  her  condition.  Never  a  word  came  from  her 
mistress  in  the  numerous  letters  she  received  from 
home,  about  husband  or  child. 

How  Purcey  would  hang  about  her  mistress  when- 
ever the  mail  came,  and  oh !  what  pangs  of  pain  passed 
through  her  heart  when  Mrs.  Maxwell  patted  Master 
Archie  on  the  head,  and  said :  "  Papa  sends  a  kiss  for 
his  little  man."  But  not  a  word  for  this  human 
being  who  stands  at  her  back,  ever  ready  to  do  her 
bidding,  ever  at  her  beck  and  call,  to  whom  was 
entrusted  the  very  life  of  the  child  she  loved.  No 
word,  no  sign,  no  sympathy,  not  even  a  look  of 
recognition  for  this  creature — mother,  wife,  though 
she  knew  Purcey  to  be.  Where  was  Mrs.  Maxwell's 
humanity  ?  Had  she  any,  or  did  she  not  consider  this 
creature  human?  Perhaps  a  look  at  the  woman's 
antecedents  will  mitigate  the  censure  which  humanity 
would  probably,  at  this  day,  be  likely  to  place  upon 
her. 

Mrs.  Maxwell  was  of  true  Southern  blue-blood 
stock.  Her  father  was  a  highly  educated,  highly  re- 
spected divine  of  the  Presbyterian  faith.  Eev.  Dr. 
Joseph  Partington  expounded  the  Gospel  to  a  large 
congregation  who  acquiesced  in  his  views,  which 
views  were  always  expressed  to  make  immovable  the 
bulwark  of  slavery,  and  show  to  his  parishioners  what 
a  high  moral  duty  they  performed  in  depriving  a 
human  being  of  his  liberty.  The  labors  of  Kev.  Dr. 
Partington  were  not  confined  to  his  large  and  wealthy 
slave-holding  congregation  alone,  but  at  his  express 


92  BOND   AND    FEEE. 

desire,  a  partition  had  been  erected  in  the  gallery  of 
his  church,  through  which  holes  had  been  made,  and 
the  black  servants  of  his  own,  as  well  as  those  of 
many  of  the  members  of  his  church,  assembled,  and 
listened  to  the  glowing  words  of  the  great  divine. 
When  the  audience  behind  the  partition  was  very 
large,  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Partirigton  always  addressed 
a  word  to  them  concerning  their  obedience  to  their 
masters.  This  great  moral  duty  he  never  failed  to 
impress  upon  their  hearing,  and  there  was  no  passage 
of  the  Scripture  that  he  ever  quoted  so  expressly  for 
their  benefit.  The  owner  himself  of  some  ten  or 
fifteen  human  creatures,  whom  he  took  great  pains  to 
deprive  of  the  least  opportunity  to  learn  a  letter  or 
see  a  book,  he  held  them  down  to  a  rigid  observance 
of  his  orthodox  views  of  religion  and  slavery.  Rev. 
Joseph  believed  that  the  institution  of  slavery  was 
of  and  by  divine  consent.  Whether  he  believed  it 
or  not,  he  preached  it  and  taught  it.  Believing  this, 
whether  honestly  or  not,  he  was  compelled  to  put  in 
practice  the  most  stringent  rules  for  its  support  and 
advancement  He  was  not  unlike  ministers  who  are 
never  at  loss  to  find  a  passage  of  Scripture  in  support 
of  the  most  radical  of  views. 

He  believed  that  when  a  servant  disobeyed,  that 
servant  should  be  punished,  the  punishment  to  be  in- 
flicted according  to  the  judgment  of  the  master. 
Consequently,  whenever  Rev.  Joseph  Partington's 
servants  disobeyed  him,  or  parted  from  his  extremely 
orthodox  views,  he  never  punished  them  himself. 


THE    HAPPY   FATHERS.  93 

That  would  be  lowering  his  ministerial  dignity ;  it 
would  probably  discompose  his  mind  in  the  composi- 
tion of  a  sermon  on  the  sufferings  of  Christ  for  man- 
kind, or,  "  Let  godly  love  fill  thy  bosom. "  No !  Eev. 
Joseph  never  punished  any  of  his  servants.  The 
nearest  approach  to  summary  punishment  he  had 
ever  been  known  to  administer,  was  to  hit  one  of  his 
female  servants  so  hard  a  blow  in  the  mouth  as  to 
cause  her  teeth  to  cut  through  her  lip  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  disfigure  her  for  life ;  but  this  was  done 
in  a  moment  of  passion,  and  was  a  pardonable  offense. 
No !  Eev.  Joseph  never  punished  that  is,  he  never 
performed  any  such  laborious  task  himself.  He, 
however,  approved  of  it.  He  believed  in  the  appli- 
cation of  the  lash  to  the  back  of  a  negro  as  sincerely 
as  he  believed  in  no  "  justification  without  faith,"  or 
the  Spirit  moving  from  within.  So  when  any  of 
his  servants  were  to  be  punished,  he  always  sent  the 
recalcitrant  to  the  town  jail  with  a  note  couched 
somewhat  in  these  terms : 

"  Strike  bearer  on  naked  back  nine  and  thirty  blows." 

DB.  PABTINGTON. 
N.  B.  Well  laid  on. 

This  was  the  manner  by  which  Kev.  Dr.  Parti  ngton 
eased  his  conscience  and  enforced  discipline  among 
his  servants.  His  tender  and  humane  heart  could 
never  have  suffered  to  see  a  human  being  writhing 
under  the  sting  of  the  lash.  It  would  have  reminded 
him  too  much  of  Him  of  whom  he  preached  so  much, 
whose  untold  sufferings  for  all  mankind  the  Keverend 


9-i  BOND   AND    FKEE. 

portrayed  with  such  earnestness  and  sincerity.  Such 
was  the  father  of  Mrs.  Maxwell.  The  woman  was 
raised  from  childhood  to  think,  to  act,  to  understand, 
that  a  negro  possessed  none  of  the  higher  attributes 
of  mankind.  Then,  let  us  make  whatever  allowance 
we  can  for  her  utter  disregard  of  any  feeling  of 
anxiety  displayed  by  Purcey. 

It  seems  to  be  a  woman's  province  to  bear  up 
under  the  greatest  sufferings,  particularly  in  the 
presence  of  those  whom  she  knows  have  no  sympa- 
thy for  her.  Purcey  had  been  with  Mrs.  Maxwell 
long  enough  to  know  that  there  was  no  sympathy,  or 
a  touch  of  kindness  for  her  in  the  bosom  of  her 
mistress.  During  the  many  months  they  had  been 
absent  from  home,  not  once  had  she  ever  given  the 
slightest  intimation  that  she  knew  Purcey  had  a 
husband  and  child,  nor  would  Purcey  make  any  in- 
quiry of  her,  thinking,  perhaps,  it  was  useless,  as  she 
did  not  suppose  anything  would  be  said  about  her 
loved  ones  by  Jonathan.  She  controlled  herself  as 
best  she  could,  praying  constantly  that  the  nights 
and  days  might  be  shortened,  and  the  time  speedily 
come  for  her  to  return  home.  It  did  come  at  last, 
and  it  seemed  that  each  fleeting  hour  bade  her  hasten. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
A  NOVEL  STAKE. 

When  Jonathan's  wife  left  home  to  benefit  her 
health,  he,  as  a  true  Southern  gentleman  would  do, 
gave  himself  up  to  such  pleasures  as  men  find  in  one 
another's  society.  He  attended  several  card  parties,  in- 
dulged in  a  little  of  that  great  American  game  of  draw 
poker,  and  passed  the  time  partly  with  rod  and  gun, 
just  as  it  suited  his  fancy.  Jonathan  was  an  excellent 
horseman,  and  had  taken  the  brush  at  many  a  fox 
hunt.  He  had  accepted  several  invitations  to  stag 
parties,  and  had  entertained  several  gentlemen  at  his 
own  residence.  His  social  circle  was  confined  to  a 
select  few,  for  we  know  that  Jonathan  Maxwell  was 
a  man  who  did  not  condescend  to  take  everybody 
upon  a  level  with  him,  or  seek  social  prominence. 
One  of  his  most  particular  friends  was  Judge  Jere. 
Coleman.  Judge  Coleman  was  what  might  be  called 
a  man  of  the  world ;  he  was,  it  is  true,  of  aristocratic 
birth,  and  had  been  possessed  of  immense  wealth. 
He  had  traveled  extensively  through  Europe,  had 
represented  one  of  the  Virginia  districts  in  Congress, 
where  he  made  for  himself  an  enviable  reputation  as 
a  warm  defender  of  the  extension  of  slavery  into  the 
Territories.  Being  a  large  slave-holder  himself,  and 
an  able  lawyer,  his  advocacy  of  spreading  the  evil  of 
slavery  won  for  him  such  laurels  that,  when  he  re- 

[95] 


96  BOXD   AND   FREE. 

turned  home  to  his  constituents,  there  was  no  posi- 
tion within  their  gift  to  which  they  would  not  have 
elevated  him. 

He  however,  contented,  himself  with  an  appoint- 
ment to  the  highest  judicial  position  in  the  State, 
which  position  he  filled  with  credit,  until  a  disposi- 
tion to  travel  possessed  him,  when  he  resigned  his 
position  and  set  out  on  an  extensive  tour  through  the 
old  countries.  While  away  from  home,  he  spent 
much  of  his  time  and  much  of  his  money  at  the  card- 
table.  There  was  not  a  place  in  Europe  noted  for  its 
gaming  attractions  that  Judge  Coleman  had  not  visited 
and  tried  his  fortune  against  the  uncertainty  of  cards. 
Monte  Carlo,  Brighton,  Baden  Baden;  and  all  of  the 
famous  gaming  places  of  foreign  countries  were  visit- 
ed by  him.  He  returned  home,  after  a  long  absence, 
broken  in  health  and  in  fortune ;  but  despite  this,  he 
had  lost  none  of  his  Southern  chivalry,  and  his  name 
was  still  Judge  Coleman.  So,  from  his  former  aristo- 
cratic position,  and  the  desire  of  his  friends  to  respect 
him  for  what  he  had  been,  he  still  had  access  to  those 
exclusive  Southern  circles  in  which  only  gentlemen 
of  honor  were  recognized.  Jonathan  had  always  ad- 
mired the  judge  and  thought  that  Judge  Coleman  ad- 
mired him.  He  saw  nothing  objectionable  in  selecting 
a  man  of  this  type  for  a  close  companion,  who  had  only 
run  through  a  fortune  which  his  father  had  made,  and 
was  given  to  those  vices  so  common  to  men  of  Judge 
Coleman's  calibre.  Judge  Coleman  still  had  the  name 
which,  at  one  time,  to  mention  was  to  make  men  un- 


A   NOVEL   STAKE.  97 

cover  with  respect.  He  was  honorable  and  chivalrous, 
and,  all  in  all,  was  a  "  deuced  good  fellow,"  as  Jona- 
than would  often  remark. 

Judge  Coleman,  Jonathan  Maxwell,  and  a  party 
of  friends  had  withdrawn  from  the  dining-room  of 
the  Maxwell  homestead  to  the  drawing-room,  after  a 
sumptuous  dinner,  for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  a 
smoke  and  indulging  in  a  social  game  of  draw  poker. 
Southern  gentlemen  have  ever  been,  and,  perhaps,  will 
be  (  until  that  particular  class  of  Americans  known 
by  this  distinctive  appellation  become  extinct)  pas- 
sionately fond  of  poker.  In  the  nourishing  days  of 
slavery,  the  steamboats,  the  railroads,  the  summer 
resorts,  the  winter  resorts,  all  furnished  retreats  for 
these  gentlemen  to  engage  in  this  favorite  pastime. 
Many  black  men  and  women,  oftentimes  children, 
have  changed  masters  over  the  card-table.  There 
was  nothing  strange  about  this,  a  negro  being  just  as 
good  collateral  as  a  Government  bond,  a  horse,  or  a 
gold  watch.  He  had  his  value,  was  transferable, 
and  was  always  a  ready  sale,  easily  converted  into 
cash.  So  when  a  Southern  gentleman  ran  short  of 
cash  at  the  card-table,  it  was  no  unusual  custom  for 
him  to  put  up  his  servant  as  collateral.  A  person 
can  go  and  receive  money  on  an  old  coat,  or  a  watch, 
or  any  other  thing  of  value.  Why,  then,  should  a 
man  refuse  to  accept  as  a  bonus  a  human  being 
that  was  actually  so  many  dollars  and  cents  ?  It 
must  not  be  supposed  that  a  man  who  had  paid  so 
dearly  for  his  experience  as  Judge  Coleman  had 


98  BOND   AND   FKEE. 

was  not  very  clever  with  the  cards.  Such  a  supposi- 
tion would  not  only  be  unjust  to  the  man,  but  would 
make  false  the  assertion,  "  Experience  is  the  best 
teacher/'  He  was  indeed  very  clever,  and  before 
that  social  game  ended,  he  had  won  a  large  amount  of 
money,  besides  the  husband  of  Purcey,  William  Mc- 
Cullar,  and  it  happened  in  this  way :  The  entire  party 
had  indulged  very  freely  in  wine,  both  at  and  after 
dinner,  and  when  they  seated  themselves  at  the  table 
to  play  a  social  game,  they  grew  rather  reckless  as  to 
the  stakes.  After  Jonathan  had  lost  what  money  he 
had  about  his  person,  he  said : 

"Judge,  I'll  play  you  for  any  nigger  I  have  on  the 
place,  against  your  winnings." 

"  It's  a  go,"  replied  Judge  Coleman. 

The  game  was  played  amidst  much  merriment,  and 
the  judge,  of  course,  won.  Jonathan  told  him  to  se- 
lect whatever  servant  he  wanted,  and  the  judge,  not 
to  be  too  particular,  selected  the  negro  man  who  had 
performed  the  service  of  waiting  upon  them.  This 
man  was  William,  who,  having  finished  his  service 
with  the  master  to  whom  he  had  been  hired,  had 
been  installed  waiter  in  his  proper  master's  house. 

Judge  Coleman  had  really  no  use  for  a  servant, 
nor  had  he  any  intention  of  keeping  one.  He  had 
possessed  a  large  number  of  them  at  one  time,  but 
then  he  was  a  large  land-owner,  and  made  good  use 
of  them.  There  was  but  one  use  he  could  make  of 
William,  and  that  was  to  convert  him  into  cash.  So 
he  said  to  Jonathan :  "  Maxwell,  I  don't  want  that  nig- 


A   NOVEL    STAKE.  99 

ger,  give  me  a  thousand  dollars  and  keep  him."  If 
Jonathan  Maxwell  had  not  been  under  the  influence 
of  liquor,  knowing  the  man  as  we  do,  we  should 
naturally  have  thought  that  he  would  have  accepted 
this  offer ;  but  it  must  also  be  remembered  that  a 
word  passed  by  a  Southern  gentleman,  whether  at 
the  card-table  or  the  counting-table,  was  considered 
as  binding  and  irrevocable  as  the  word  of  man  could 
be. 

Jonathan  Maxwell,  under  the  excitement  of  a  game 
of  cards,  had  chanced  off,  in  round  cash,  two  thousand 
dollars.  To  be  sure  it  was  only  a  poor  black  slave, 
a  husband  and  a  father,  a  man  with  a  heart  and  soul, 
a  being  that  could  feel,  could  see,  could  taste,  that 
felt  the  same  cold  and  the  same  heat  his  master  did. 
But  what  cared  this  master,  what  thought  had  he  of 
a  slave  possessing  such  sensibilities !  He  only  knew 
that  he  had  bought  him  ;  the  law  of  the  land  protected 
him  in  his  ownership,  and  made  his  title  as  clear  to 
the  possession  of  this  human  being  as  it  did  to  his 
acres  of  land.  And  when  Judge  Coleman  offered  to 
return  the  man,  not  out  of  sympathy  for  him,  but  be- 
cause the  cash  would  be  more  advantageous,  not  be- 
cause he  did  not  know  that  he  could  obtain  that 
amount  in  any  slave-market,  or  from  any  negro  "tra- 
der, but  because  he  thought  his  host  would  accept 
back,  after  a  second  consideration,  the  impulsive  wa- 
ger. Jonathan  was  obdurate,  and  insisted,  as  the 
judge  had  fairly  won,  he  should  take  the  man. 

William  had  no  knowledge  that  he  had  been  bar- 


100  BOND   AND    FEEE. 

tered  away  to  a  new  master,  and  perhaps  it  was  all 
the  better  he  did  not,  for,  having  been  separated  from 
his  wife  for  months  and  months,  the  probability  of 
never  seeing  her  again  would  have,  perhaps,  driven 
the  poor  fellow  frantic.  Judge  Coleman  remained 
as  a  guest  at  the  Maxwell  house,  consequently  noth- 
ing was  said  to  William  about  the  change  which 
would  take  place  when  the  judge's  visit  terminated- 
A  fear  that  he  might  attempt  to  run  away  was  one 
reason,  and  as  the  judge  had  not  bought  him  in  a 
very  business-like  manner,  he  did  not  like  to  confine 
him  in  the  town  jail,  as  was  the  custom  when  buy- 
ing up  slaves. 

Since  the  departure  of  Mrs.  Maxwell,  Elva  had  the 
entire  oversight  of  the  house.  She  was  allowed,  or 
took,  many  privileges  that  were  denied  to  the  other 
servants,  which  gave  her  an  opportunity  to  know 
much  of  her  master's  doings.  She  presided  over  the 
culinary  department,  where  she  permitted  no  intru- 
sion, For  some  reason,  Jonathan  had  for  her  a  pe- 
culiar respect  or  awe.  And  why  did  Jonathan 
Maxwell  have  this  peculiar  feeling?  Had  not  his 
mother,  upon  her  dying  bed,  taught  him  to  hate  her? 
Did  he  not  own  her  as  absolutely  as  any  slave  upon 
his  place  ?  Was  he  not  fully  aware  that  this  woman 
had  given  birth  to  a  child  of  which  his  father  was 
also  the  father?  Then  why  should  he  have  this  pe- 
culiar feeling  ?  Was  it  because  he  had  nursed  at  her 
breast  ?  Was  it  because,  in  his  childhood  days,  this 
slave- woman  had  humored  his  whims,  nursed  him 


A   NOVEL   STAKE.  101 

tenderly,  and,  when  almost  at  death's  door  with  a  dan- 
gerous fever  he  had  contracted,  she,  by  tenderness 
and  care,  had  brought  back  the  flickering  flame  of  life 
which  had  at  one  time  almost  left  him,  or  was  it  be- 
cause he  had  inherited  this  awe  or  respect  from  his 
father?  There  are  certain  innate  qualities  which  men 
inherit ;  whatever  other  qualities  they  cultivate,  traces 
of  the  hereditary  are  evident. 

Jonathan's  father  was  one  of  a  numerous  class  of 
Southern  slave-holding  gentlemen  who  carried  on  a 
criminal  and  illicit  intimacy  with  his  slaves.  This 
brutish  desire  might  have  been  the  incarnation  of 
Satan,  or  the  outcome  of  a  curse,  put  upon  them  by 
an  overruling  power,  that  they  should  bruise  and 
maltreat  their  own  flesh  and  blood.  Whatever  it 
was,  we  shall  give  Jonathan's  father  credit  for  desist- 
ing, as  we  have  said  before,  from  abusing  the  woman 
who  was  both  his  slave  and  his  mistress.  Elva  had 
always  held  a  wonderful  influence  over  the  father 
of  Jonathan.  He  could  never  withstand  the  awful 
gaze  of  those  lustrous  black  eyes.  The  secret  of 
the  influence  which  she  held  over  the  father  died 
with  him ;  but  the  son  inherited  its  effect  without 
fully  realizing  the  cause. 

Elva  made  it  her  business  to  watch  everything 
that  occured  about  the  Maxwell  house,  not  for  her 
master's  benefit,  nor  to  be  a  tale-bearer  to  her  mistress, 
but  for  her  own  satisfaction.  She  slept  in  the  house, 
but  had  made  it  a  rule  for  years  never  to  retire  un- 
til every  person  in  the  house  had  done  so.  Often, 


102  BOND   AND    FREE. 

with  her  stealthy  step,  had  she  stolen  through  the 
house  and  listened  at  her  master's  door.  More  than 
once  had  young  master  Jonathan  come  home  late  at 
night,  partly  intoxicated,  and  found  her  crouched 
in  a  corner  upon  the  steps  close  to  his  father's  door. 
When  questioned  as  to  what  she  was  doing  there, 
she  would  invariably  answer,  "Waiting  for  you, 
massa  Johnnie."  The  woman  seemed  scarcely  ever 
to  sleep.  Come  in  or  go  out  whatever  hour  you 
would,  those  large,  black,  speaking  eyes  could  be  seen, 
open,  undimmed,  and  unwearied.  What  were  the 
temptations  that  entered  the  woman's  mind,  when 
the  man  who  owned  her  body  and  had  dishonored  her 
slept  in  apparent  calm  repose  ?  Often  was  she  tempt- 
ed to  redden  her  hands  in  his  blood  and  attempt  to 
free  herself  and  all  of  her  children  from  bondage. 
But  when  she  thought  how  useless  such  a  thing 
would  be,  that  although  she  might  kill  her  master 
and  no  suspicion  rest  upon  her,  she  decided  to  use 
greater  discretion ;  though  had  Jonathan's  father 
been  the  hydra-headed  monster  of  slavery,  this 
woman,  in  her  fanaticism,  her  religious  fervor,  would 
have  easily  been  worked  up  to  believe  herself  the 
saviour  of  her  race,  and  would  have  strangled  the  mon- 
ster without  a  thought  of  the  consequence.  Elva 
never  resigned  her  watchfulness  after  the  death  of 
her  old  master,  but  continued  it ;  and  had  Jonathan 
Maxwell  taken  a  second  thought  when  he  lost  Wil- 
liam McCullar,  his  slave,  at  a  game  of  cards,  he  might 
have  known  that  the  transaction  was  seen  and  heard 


A   NOVEL   STAKE.  103 

by  this  astute  woman.  Elva  evidently  felt  it  her  busi- 
ness 'to  know  everything  that  occurred  in  that  house, 
and  she  did.  When  the  gentlemen  retired  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, Elva  knew  what  it  was  for.  Hurrying 
through  her  work,  she  reached  the  door  in  the  midst 
of  their  merriment,  and  heard  the  words  which  trans- 
ferred her  daughter's  husband  to  another  master.  She 
also  heard  Jonathan  refuse  to  buy  him  back.  Stag- 
gering to  her  feet,  almost  overcome  by  what  she  heard, 
she  returned  to  the  kitchen,  fell  upon  her  knees,  and 
prayed  for  Purcev's  return. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  WIFE'S  RETURN. 

Elva  poured  out  her  soul  to  the  Almighty  that  her 
daughter  might  return  before  William  was  taken 
away.  Rising  from  her  knees,  she  bethought  herself 
as  to  what  was  the  best  to  do  in  the  premises.  She 
had  no  idea  when  William  would  be  taken  away  by 
his  new  master,  or  had  she  the  remotest  idea  when 
her  mistress  would  return ;  she  knew,  however,  that 
something  must  be  done  and  that  at  once.  She  could 
do  but  one  thing,  and  that  was  to  urge  William  to 
seek  freedom.  Then  she  thought  that  such  a  course 
would  be  next  to  impossible,  as  she  could  never  per- 
suade the  man  to  leave  without  seeing  his  wife. 
Their  child,  under  such  care  as  Elva  could  bestow 
upon  it,  had  grown  into  a  handsome  little  mulatto  fel- 
low, with  straight  black  hair  and  eyes  that  fairly  re- 
flected those  of  his  mother.  He  was  kept  cleaner  and 
neater  in  his  dress  than  the  other  children,  -and  his 
play-ground  was  the  kitchen,  where  he  was  constantly 
under  Elva's  eye.  She  knew  that  should  William 
leave  for  a  free  land  without  seeing  his  wife,  his 
chances  to  see  them  again  would  be  better  than  if  he 
remained  to  be  removed  away,  and,  perhaps,  sold  to  a 
trader  and  then  be  taken  to  the  South. 

Here  were  two  evils  facing  her,  and  she  was  puz- 


105 

zled  as  to  which  one  to  avoid.  She  had  not  as  yet 
mentioned  a  word  to  William  of  his  dangerous  po- 
sition, but  time  was  flying ;  and  she  was  still  unde- 
cided as  to  which  course  to  pursue.  Once  more  she 
fell  upon  her  knees  and  appealed  to  the  Almighty 
for  guidance,  and  she  had  scarcely  finished  her  prayer 
when  the  bell  rang  summoning  her  to  the  drawing- 
room.  She  arose  and  answered  the  call.  She  had 
just  time  to  wonder  what  her  master  wanted,  when 
she  reached  the  drawing-room  door.  Pushing  it  open 
softly,  she  discovered  Jonathan  and  Judge  Coleman 
engaged  in  conversation.  Standing,  almost  transfixed, 
with  her  hand  touching  the  door,  she  heard  the  judge 
say: 

"Maxwell,  I  think  I  shall  leave  you  to-morrow." 

Jonathan  said :  "I  am  sorry  to  part  with  you,  old 
fellow,  but  if  you  will  go,  all  right.  I  shall  expect 
you  down  during  hunting  season,  when  you  won't 
have  to  be  entertained  by  the  host  without  the 
hostess." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  judge,  "  I  shall  come.  I  want, 
however,  to  leave  this  boy  here  a  few  days." 

Jonathan  replied, — "  No,  that  won't  do.  You  must 
take  him  along.  His  mistress  comes  home  with  his 
wife,  in  a  few  days,  and  the  devil  would  be  to  play 
should  they  have  to  be  separated." 

This  touch  of  feeling  was  the  first  evidence  given 
by  Jonathan  that  he  felt  any  reproach  over  what  he 
had  done. 

"  Well,  as  you  like  it,  Maxwell.     These  creatures 


106  BOND   AND    FREE. 

do  go  on  terribly,  sometimes,  about  being  separated, 
just  as  though  they  could  not  take  up  another  and  be 
just  as  well  satisfied." 

Elva  waited  to  hear  no  more.  She  pushed  open 
the  door,  entered  the  room,  and  stood  before  her  mas- 
ter and  his  guest 

"  Massa,  did  you  ring  ?"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  Elva,  your  mistress  and  Master  Archie  will 
be  home  day  after  to-morrow.  See  that  everything 
is  in  readiness  for  them."  She  made  a  bow,  and 
left  the  room. 

She  went  directly  and  sought  William,  quickly  in- 
forming him  of  everything,  and  telling  him  that  he 
must  fly,  he  must  run  away  that  night,  or,  perhaps, 
he  would  never  have  another  chance.  When  Wil- 
liam heard  the  startling  news  of  his  transfer,  of  the 
intention  to  remove  him  the  next  day,  he  knew  not 
where,  certain  that  it  would  be,  if  anything,  to  sla- 
very more  absolute  and  binding  than  that  he  was  now 
in,  his  first  thought  was  of  his  wife  whom,  perhaps, 
he  was  destined  never  to  see  again.  This  was  indeed 
sad  to  contemplate ;  but  he  also  thought,  sad  as  it  was, 
that  by  taking  this  step,  securing  freedom,  Purcey 
would  be  induced  to  watch  her  opportunity  to  break 
her  shackles  and  one  day  join  him  in  a  free  land. 
Strong  and  stout-hearted  as  he  was,  he  quailed  before 
the  inevitable  separation,  and  in  a  choking  voice  he 
said : 

"Aunt  Elva,  must  I  go  widout  seeing  Purcey? 
Must  I  leave  the  child  ?" 


THE    WIFE'S    RETURN.  107 

"  Yes,"  said  Elva,  "  You  must  go  to-night,  and  you 
must  travel  fast  and  cover  every  track  until  you 
reach  de  river.  Don't  stop  night  or  day  until  you 
are  safe  in  de  land  of  freedom." 

William  McCullar,  though  a  slave,  was  a  noble- 
hearted  man.  He  was  brave  and  courageous.  Had 
he  have  thought  that  there  was  the  least  possible 
chance  of  remaining  and  successfully  resisting  being 
taken  away  by  his  new  master,  without  seeing  his  wifei 
he  would  have  fought  to  the  last.  He  was  possessed 
of  sufficient  intelligence  to  know  that  any  attempt 
at  resistance  would  be  utterly  useless,  when  every 
slave  upon  the  place  would  be  called  upon  to  assist 
in  subduing  him,  and  the  law  of  the  land  would  con- 
done his  death  should  they  see  fit  to  administer  such 
a  penalty.  With  all  these  odds  against  him,  he  turned 
to  Elva  and  said :  "  Massa  Maxwell  has  sold  me ;  but 
I'll  remain  here  until  Purcey  comes  back,  or  be 
tooken  away  dead." 

"Now,  honey,  there's  no  use  talking  that  way. 
You  must  either  run  away  at  once,  or  be  taken  to 
God  knows  where." 

"But,"  said  William,  "'sposing  I  am  captured; 
wouldn't  I  be  sold  to  the  traders  anyhow  ?  " 

"But  you  won't  be  captured,"  said  Elva 

William  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  They  stood  in 
silence  for  a  few  moments,  when  the  door  opened  and 
William's  bright-eyed  little  son  came  running  in,  and, 
as  if  by  instinct,  wrapped  his  tiny  little  arms  around 
his  father's  legs  and  looked  up  into  his  face.  The 


108  BOND    AND    FREE. 

father  bent  down,  lifted  the  child  up,  held  it  at  arm's 
length,  drew  it  to  his  bosom,  and  kissed  it.  The 
child  threw  its  tiny  arms  around  its  father's  neck  and 
laid  its  head  against  his  face. 

"  Poor  chile,"  said  William,  "  your  poor  father  must 
leave  you,  maybe  never  to  see  you  agin/' 

The  child  hardly  realized  what  its  father  said,  but 
tightened  its  arms  around  his  neck.  Here  was  sim- 
ple, pure  affection — this  slave-father,  pressing  to  his 
heart  and  bestowing  what  might  be  a  last  farewell  and 
blessing  upon  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  which  by  law 
was  the  common  property  of  another  man.  Should 
we  wonder  that  William  questioned  the  right  of  an- 
other man  to  separate  him  from  the  wife  and  child  of 
his  bosom  ?  He  put  the  child  down  and  the  tears 
almost  blinded  his  eyes. 

"  No,  aunt  Elva,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  go.  I  won't  go 
until  Purcey  comes.  I'll  go  to  Mars  Jonathan  and 
ask  him  to  let  me  stay  just  one  day,  and  then  I'll  go ; 
but  I  won't  stay,  Elva.  Dey  can  take  me  as  far 
South  as  dey  please,  but  I'll  run  away  the  first 
chance  I  git." 

"  You  can  go  to  Mars  Jonathan,  honey,  if  you  want, 
but  it  ain't  no  use ;  he  says  you  must  go  before  mis- 
sus and  Purcey  comes  home." 

This  discouraging  piece  of  intelligence  did  not  alter 
William's  resolve  to  appeal  to  his  master.  When  the 
dinner  hour  arrived,  he  waited  on  the  table,  as  was  his 
duty,  and  during  the  meal  Jonathan  said  to  him  : 
"  Bill,  after  dinner  you  get  your  things  together  and 


THE    WIFE'S   RETURN.  109 

prepare  to  go  with  Judge  Coleman.     I  have  sold  you 
to  him." 

William  did  not  show  any  evidence  of  surprise  at 
this  announcement,  but,  standing  before  his  master 
with  a  server  in  his  hand,  he  said :  "  Massa,  can't  I 
wait  until  missus  comes  home  with  Purcey  ?  Please 
don't  send  me  away  widout  seeing  her."  And  while 
he  spoke,  every  limb  trembled  and  the  dishes  on  the 
server  shook  until  there  was  imminent  danger  of  his 
letting  them  fall  Jonathan  Maxwell  looked  at  the 
man  without  a  change  in  his  cold,  hard  features,  and 
without  a  thought  of  what  his  own  feelings  would  be 
were  he  told  then  that  he  must  leave  his  own  dear 
wife  and  son,  and  go  he  knew  not  where  after  being 
separated  from  them  for  months,  and  yet  within  but 
a  few  hours  of  the  time  that  he  could  fold  them  to 
his  bosom.  This  he  did  not  give  a  thought,  and,  of 
course,  had  no  sympathy  for  the  slave's  appeal.  When 
William  had  finished  speaking,  Jonathan  waved  his 
hand  and  pointed  toward  the  door.  William  knew 
what  this  meant,  and,  with  tears  in  his  eyes  nearly 
blinding  him  and  a  great  lump  in  his  throat  nearly 
choking  him,  he  passed  from  the  room,  entered  the 
kitchen,  and  fell  at  Elva's  feet  exclaiming,  ;'  It's  no 
use !  it's  no  use !  " 

Before  Elva  could  utter  a  word,  the  wheels  of  a 
carriage  were  heard  upon  the  gravel  driveway.  Elva 
ran  to  the  window  and  saw,  seated  by  the  side  of  the 
driver,  Purcey,  while  young  master  Archie's  haughty 
face  was  pressed  against  the  window.  The  carriage 


110  BOND   AND    FKEE. 

was  discovered  about  the  same  time1  by  Jonathan, 
who  ran  to  the  door  to  meet  them. 

The  arrival  of  Mrs.  Maxwell  a  day  earlier  than 
she  was  expected  created,  of  course,  quite  an  excite- 
ment in  the  household,  and  everything  else  for  the 
time  was  forgotten,  so  glad  was  Jonathan  to  welcome 
his  family  home.  The  cause  of  Mrs.  Maxwell's  un- 
expected return  was  a  very  simple  one.  She  had 
started  for  home  a  day  earlier  than  she  intended  be- 
cause she  did  not  see  that  her  health  would  be 
benefited  by  slow,  tedious  travel,  when  she  could 
take  another  route  which,  as  will  be  seen,  brought 
her  home  a  day  sooner  than  expected.  As  soon  as 
Purcey  had  attended  her  mistress,  she  speedily  sought 
her  husband  and  child.  She  found  the  latter  play- 
ing in  the  kitchen,  as  usual,  ]put,  in  place  of  a  little 
baby  in  swaddling  clothes,  she  found  a  bright-eyed, 
smiling-faced  little  youngster  walking  about  without 
the  aid  of  chairs  and  table  legs.  She  soon  had  the 
child  in  her  arms,  bestowing  upon  it  the  caresses  of 
a  fond  mother. 

William  had  been  sent  out  by  his  master  to  pre- 
pare Judge  Coleman's  horse  for  the  judge's  departure, 
but  horses  and  master's  commands  had  lost  all  inter- 
est for  him ;  he  knew  his  wife  had  come,  and  he  felt 
more  reconciled  to  his  fate,  now  that  he  could  em- 
brace her  before  leaving.  His  wife  had  returned,  his 
heart  was  lighter,  and  he  wondered  whether  Elva's 
and  his  own  prayers  had  been  answered. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  SEPARATION. 

Purcey  was,  as  might  be  supposed,  highly  elated 
upon  her  return  home.  She  laughed,  she  cried,  by 
turns.  Her  heart  was  filled  with  unutterable  joy; 
everything  seemed  lost  to  her,  for  the  time  being, 
except  her  excessive  happiness  at  her  return  and 
the  sight  of  those  she  loved  so  dearly.  There  had 
not  been  a  single  circumstance  which  had  conveyed 
to  her  a  message,  a  word,  as  to  their  existence,  during 
her  absence  from  them.  Had  she  have  received  one 
word,  one  little  message,  from  them,  perhaps  she 
might  not  have  been  quite  so  demonstrative  now 
upon  meeting  them.  Let  us  not  think,  because  she 
fell  upon  her  husband's  bosom  and  wept  like  a  child, 
that  it  was  the  overflow  of  passion  in  which  women, 
as  a  rule,  are  apt  to  indulge.  This  heart,  filled  only 
with  the  purest  of  love,  inexpressible  joy,  must  soon 
be  rent  with  the  cruelest  and  bitterest  grief.  Purcey 
did  not  know,  as  she  stood  there  encircled  by  her 
husband's  arms,  that  a  cruel  and  relentless  man,  her 
master  by  the  law  of  the  land,  had  already  taken  that 
husband  from  her  by  a  mere  word.  She  did  not 
know  that  that  embrace  would  be,  perhaps,  the  last 
she  would  ever  receive  from  her  husband. 

William  did  not  know  how  to  break  the  sad  news 
[in] 


112  BOND   AND   FEEE. 

to  her.  Illiterate  though  he  was,  his  heart  was  filled 
with  true,  manly  love  and  real,  human  feeling.  The 
husband  and  wife  thus  stood  clasped  in  each  other's 
arms,  and  it  seemed  as  though  no  power  could  sepa- 
rate them.  When  Purcey  recovered  herself,  she 
looked  into  his  face  with  her  beautiful  black  eyes ; 
she  saw  that  that  face,  black  though  it  was,  wore  a 
troubled,  anxious  look.  She  said : 

"  My  husband,  ain't  you  glad  to  see  me  ?  " 

" Glad?"  said  William,  "glad?  More,  chile;  I 
can't  spress  how  I  feel." 

"  What  makes  you  look  so  sad  ?  " 

"  'Tain't  'cause  you'se  come  home,  for  that's  what 
I  been  praying  to  de  Lord  for.  No,  'tain't  that,  but 
you'se  come,  and — and — "  Poor  fellow !  he  could 
say  no  more.  Something  rose  in  his  throat  and  al- 
most choked  him.  He  reached  his  hands  toward  his 
wife,  exclaiming,  "  It's  no  use,  it's  no  use,  Purcey ! 
I  must  go." 

"Go  where?  What  is  it?"  said  Purcey.  She 
grew  greatly  excited,  but  could  not  divine  her  hus- 
band's meaning.  "Speak,  William,  tell  me  what 
you  mean."  The  black  eyes  looked  at  him  in  an  im- 
ploring manner,  but  William  saw  them  not,  nor  did 
he  appear  ro  hear  her  words.  He  was  now  pacing 
the  floor  still  exclaiming,  "  Its  no  use !  its  no  use !  " 
Purcey  could  bear  this  no  longer.  She  threw  her- 
self upon  his  neck,  exclaiming : 

"Tell  me  all,  William.  What  has  happened?  What 
have  you  done  ?  Why  must  you  go  ?  Where  must 


THE   SEPARATION.  113 

you  go  ?  Tell  rne  !  tell  me !"  This  seemed  to  call  the 
man's  senses  back,  and  when  he  saw  how  excited  his 
wife  was,  he  tried  to  pacify  her  by  telling  her  that  he 
would  come  to  her  again  as  he  had  to  get  Judge  Cole- 
man's  horse  ready  for  him.  Purcey  would  not  listen 
to  this.  She  insisted  upon  knowing  the  cause  of  his 
strange  actions,  and  clung  to  him  all  the  more.  Wil- 
liam saw  that  there  was  no  use  concealing  the  truth 
longer,  as  it  made  her  almost  frantic  with  excitement 
The  man's  actions  were  certainly  strange.  Purcey 
did  not  expect  to  find  her  husband  anything  but 
happy  upon  her  return  ;  she  had  not  given  a  thought 
to  such  a  thing  as  his  being  separated  from  her  far- 
ther than  a  few  miles.  Neither  had  she  expected  to 
find  him  at  the  Maxwell  house,  as  he  was  always 
hired  out  since  the  escape  of  her  brothers,  and  she 
little  knew  that  had  her  arrival  been  a  day  later,  she 
would  never  have  beheld  him  again.  No  wonder, 
then,  she  insisted  upon  knowing  the  meaning  of 
William's  strange  words.  Could  she  have  guessed 
their  meaning,  could  she  have  realized  what  pain  their 
explanation  would  cause  her,  she  might  not  have  per- 
sisted so.  But  she  must,  she  would  know. 

William  passed  his  arm  gently  around  her  as  he 
said :  "  Chile,  ain't  nobody  told  jou  ?  " 

"Told  me  what?  I  have  had  no  talk  with  any 
one  but  you,  and  you  talk  so  strange.  What  has 
happened  ?  " 

He  stood  with  his  arm  encircling  her  shapely  form 
while  her  head  rested  against  his  bosom.  She  could 


114  BOND    AND    FREE. 

feel  the  quick  throbbing  of  his  heart,  his  bosom  rising 
and  falling  with  agitation.  For  a  moment,  all  was 
silence,  then  he  raised  his  disengaged  hand  and  ca- 
ressed her  tenderly,  while  a  tear  stole  down  his  dusky 
cheek.  He  spoke  with  great  effort  as  he  said,  "  Poor 
chile !  Oh,  how  I  have  prayed  for  your  return ! 
Now  that  you'se  come,  it  seems  so  hard,  so  hard !" 

And  with  these  words,  this  strong,  horny-handed 
slave  broke  completely  down,  and  wept  like  a  child. 
His  head  fell  forward  upon  his  bosom,  and  the  tears 
fell  thick  and  fast.  Yes ;  he  upon  whose  back  the 
whip  of  a  cruel  master  had  fallen  with  relentless  force ; 
he  who  had  suffered  all  the  cruelty  and  privations 
known  to  slavery  and  had  never  winced,  but  remained 
as  stolid  and  as  indifferent  as  a  Sphinx,  now  suc- 
cumbed to  the  feelings  which  had  overcome  him  in 
view  of  the  separation  from  the  companion  of  his  heart 
Cruel,  cruel  man,  made  in  the  image  of  his  Maker,  yet 
so  unlike  Him  in  love,  by  what  right  do  you  cause 
your  fellow-men  to  suffer  thus  ?  Is  there  any  miti- 
gation for  the  wrongs  done  your  brother?  Is  there 
any  forgiveness  for  your  disobedience  of  that  divine 
principle,  "  Do  unto  others  as  you  would  have  them 
do  unto  you  ?  " 

The  woman  now  stood  almost  motionless  ;  she  had 
not  yet  been  able  to  conceive  the  cause  of  her  hus- 
band's agitation.  Never  before  had  she  seen  him  so 
agitated,  and  respect  for  his  poignant  grief  compelled 
her,  for  a  moment,  to  weep  with  him  in  silence.  At 
last,  unable  to  bear  the  terrible  suspense  longer,  she 


THE    SEPARATION.  115 

broke  out  in  words  of  burning  intensity  :  "  My  loving 
husband,  my  own  William,  pray  tell  me  the  cause  of 
this  great  grief.  Would  you  break  my  heart  with 
this  terrible  silence?  Let  me  know  the  worst. 
Speak  to  me,  my  husband,  speak !  " 

The  man  controlled  his  feelings  as  best  he  could, 
and,  in  a  trembling  voice,  said:  "Break  your  heart? 
No,  chile,  de  good  Lord  forbid  that.  But — "  and 
he  drew  her  near  to  his  bosom,  "  I  must,  I  must  leave 
you,  leave  you  to-day.  I  hab  another  master." 

"  Why,  what  of  that?  You  can  come  and  see  me 
as  you  have  always  done." 

"No,  chile,  I'm  going  away  off;  I  don't  know 
where.  Mars  Jonathan  has — has  sold  me." 

"  What  ?  Sold  you  !  sold  you  !  "  exclaimed  the 
woman  as  she  staggered  back.  "  Sold  you  !  my  God, 
it  cannot  be !  "  and  with  this  exclamation  she  fell  to 
the  floor. 

William  quickly  had  her  in  his  arms.  The  loud 
exclamation  and  the  dull  thud  of  her  body  as  it  struck 
the  floor  were  heard  by  Elva,  who  came  rushing  into 
the  room  just  as  William  raised  the  limp  form  from 
the  floor.  Without  asking  any  questions,  she  set 
about  restoring  her  daughter  to  consciousness.  Pur- 
cey  slowly  regained  her  senses,  but  only  to  swoon 
away  again.  William  was  now  summoned  to  bring 
the  horses.  He  bent  over  her  prostrate  form,  and 
brushed  back  her  raven  tresses,  which  had  fallen  in  a 
mass  over  her  brow,  kissing  her  again  and  again.  It 
was  the  last  kiss  he  implanted  upon  that  brow  for 


116  BOND   AND    FREE. 

many  a  day.  He  told  Elva  to  say  to  her  that  he  was 
going  to  run.  away  ;  he  was  going  to  flee  to  freedom 
the  first  chance  he  got,  and  he  wanted  Purcey  to  take 
the  child  and  make  her  escape.  With  this  parting 
injunction,  without  another  word,  he  left  his  uncon- 
scious wife  and  his  only  child  to  follow  his  new  mas- 
ter wherever  necessary,  perhaps  to  be  sold  again,  but, 
at  all  events,  with  little  hope  of  ever  seeing  that  wife 
whom  he  loved  so  dearly  and  the  child  for  whom  his 
heart  yearned. 

William  took  the  horses  to  the  door ;  Judge  Cole- 
man  bade  Jonathan  Maxwell  farewell,  promising  to 
return  during  the  hunting  season,  and,  with  the  re- 
sult of  his  last  successful  gambling  bet,  rode  away. 
Jonathan  watched  them  until  well  out  of  sight,  when 
he  entered  the  house  and  fondly  embraced  his  wife. 
Seating  himself  in  an  easy  chair,  he  took  his  darling 
son  upon  his  knee,  and  asked  his  wife  to  tell  him  all 
about  their  long  sojourn  from  home. 

Can  there  be  any  adequate  expression  given  to  the 
depth  of  human  feeling?  or,  is  there  no  depth  or 
breadth  to  the  feeling  of  the  human  heart?  Are  we 
to  suppose  that  Jonathan  Maxwell,  as  he  sat  there 
with  his  son  upon  his  knee  and  his  wife  gazing  af- 
fectionately upon  him,  had  any  thought  of  the  man 
•  whom  he  had  just  separated  from  a  wife  whose  prov- 
ince it  was  to  love  her  husband  as  dearly  as  any 
other  woman  ?  Can  it  be  supposed  that,  surrounded 
as  he  was  by  love,  by  every  comfort  heart  could  wish7 
a  single  pang  of  remorse  entered  his  bosom  to  re- 


THE    SEPARATION.  117 

proach  him  for  this  downright,  cruel  robbery  ?  Did 
one  jot  of  sympathy  dwell  within  his  heart  for  the 
woman  who,  at  that  moment,  was  being  racked  by  a 
raging  fever  brought  on  by  this  sudden  announce- 
ment of  a  separation  from  her  husband  ?  Had  not 
the  injunction,  "  whom  God  hath  joined  together  let 
no  man  put  asunder,"  any  significance  that  this  man 
Maxwell  could  appreciate?  If  he  possessed  one 
spark  of  feeling,  no  evidence  of  it  could  be  discerned 
upon  his  countenance.  What  had  he  done,  the 
thought  of  which  would  make  him  regretful  ?  What 
had  he  done  that  remorse  should  haunt  his  happi- 
ness, or  disturb  his  tranquility  ?  Nothing  but  play 
away  the  value  of  a  certain  amount  of  money  at  the 
gaming  table,  and,  not  seeing  fit  to  pay  the  obligation 
in  cash,  had  given  substantial  collateral  in  the  form 
of  human  being — his  property  by  law — instead. 
What  had  he  done  ?  Nothing  but  widowed  a  wife 
by  a  means  worse  than  death  ;  nothing  but  orphaned 
a  child  in  a  manner  simply  cruel ;  nothing  but  break 
the  heart  of  a  woman,  now  almost  a  raving  maniac. 
But  what  signified  all  this  ?  It  was  simply  a  privilege 
which  the  law  gave  a  man,  to  dispose  of  his  own 
property  as  he  saw  fit  Who  would  censure  him — 
who  condemn  him  for  the  exercise  of  that  privilege  ? 
If  there  were  any  thought  at  all  regarding  his  late 
transaction,  it  was  that  William  would  soon  get  over 
any  sorrow  that  he  had  for  the  separation  from  his 
wife,  and  forget  it  all  in  finding  new  companions, 
perhaps  another  wife.  As  for  Purcey,  he  intended, 


118  BOND    AND    FREE. 

if  any  manifestation  of  grief  was  displayed  more  than 
he  thought  was  necessary,  to  put  a  check  upon  it  in 
any  manner  that  suggested  itself  to  him. 

Mrs.  Maxwell,  reclining  in  a  comfortable  chair,  de- 
scribed in  an  interesting  manner  all  the  events  of  her 
visit,  and  concluded  by  referring  to  her  greatly  im- 
proved health.  She  then  requested  Jonathan  to  ring 
for  Purcey  to  give  Master  Archie  his  bath.  Jonathan 
rang  the  maid's  bell,  which  was  answered  by  Purcey 's 
sister,  Eloise. 

''Where  is  Purcey,"  said  Mrs.  Maxwell,  "that  she 
did  not  answer  the  bell  ?  " 

Eloise  was  very  fat,  very  round,  and  very  ugly, 
with  a  face  like  a  butter  ball,  and  eyes  that  sat  in  her 
head  like  two  holes  burnt  into  a  blanket.  Her  hair 
stood  out  straight  from  her  head  like  the  quills  upon 
a  porcupine.  In  addition  to  this,  she  was  black,  sly, 
and  considerably  younger  than  her  sister,  Purcey. 
One  garment  covered  her  person,  and  her  feet  were 
always  ready  for  a  jig.  She  was,  however,  clever  and 
quite  useful ;  she  could  do  most  any  work  about  the 
house  that  she  could  be  entrusted  with,  and  could 
work  in  the  harvest  field  equal  to  a  man.  She  had 
an  insatiable  desire  for  mischief,  and  was  as  near  being 
uncivilized  as  a  human  being  can  be  without  being 
actually  so.  When  Elva,  with  Eloise's  assistance, 
had  got  Purcey  to  her  bed,  she  sent  Eloise  into  the 
kitchen  to  attend  to  the  work  until  she  could  safely 
leave  her  daughter's  bedside.  She  dared  not  leave 
Eloise  with  her  sister,  for,  unless  she  fully  realized 


THE   SEPARATION.  119 

the  serious  condition  Purcey  was  in,  she  would  likely 
have  committed  some  indiscretion,  which,  perhaps, 
might  have  ended  seriously.  Elva  instructed  her 
that  in  case  the  bell  rang  to  answer  it,  and  see  what 
was  wanted.  This  is  why  Eloise  had  answered  the 
bell,  and,  as  she  entered  the  room,  she  stood  balancing 
herself  first  on  one  foot,  then  on  the  other,  until  her 
mistress  repeated  the  question  the  second  time. 

Now  there  was  one  thing  about  Eloise  which  was 
very  remarkable.  She  feared  neither  mistress  nor 
master,  nor  had  she  any  fear  of  the  lash.  Her  hide 
was  as  tough  as  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros,  and  she  ap- 
parently cared  for  nothing.  There  was  but  one 
person  on  earth  that  she  seemed  to  care  for,  and  that 
was  Purcey.  She  loved  Purcey  with  a  devotion  that 
her  nature  in  no  way  betrayed,  and,  when  asked  why 
she  loved  her  so,  she  would  say,  "  Cause  she's  white 
and  ain't  like  us  common  niggers."  Purcey  was  the 
only  one  who  could  control  her.  She  would  do  what- 
ever Purcey  bade  her,  and  would  cry  like  a  child 
when  reprimanded  by  her  sister. 

What  it  was  that  drew  this  almost  uncivilized 
child  toward  her  sister,  it  would  be  hard  to  tell,  un- 
less it  was  the  music  of  Purcey's  voice.  Whenever 
Purcey  would  sing  (she  had  a  sweet  voice),  Eloise 
would  stand  and  grin  and  clap  her  hands.  As  soon 
as  she  had  finished  singing,  Eloise  would  rush-  upon 
her  and  almost  hug  the  breath  out  of  her.  This  was 
singular,  in  view  of  the  fact  of  her  far  different  actions 
when  any  one  else  would  sing.  It  did  not  matter 


120  BOND    AND    FREE. 

whether  it  was  a  tune  of  slow  or  fast  measure,  a 
hymn,  or  a  song,  Eloise  would  attempt  to  dance  it. 
But  just  let  Purcey  raise  her  voice,  and  the  feet  of 
the  little  savage  were  stilled  in  silence,  and  her  mouth 
would  drop  wide  open,  a  broad  grin  overspread  her 
face,  and  her  little,  round,  mischievous  eyes,  glitter 
like  fire-balls.  This  was  the  attachment  which  this 
untutored  child  of  bondage  bore  for  her  sister,  and 
when  she  saw  Purcey  lying  insensible  upon  the  floor, 
she  could  not  realize  what  it  meant.  She  asked  her 
mother,  however,  what  ailed  her,  and,  when  told  that 
she  had  been  made  sick  by  the  fact  that  Mars  Jona- 
than had  sold  her  husband,  she  said :  "  Mars  Jona- 
than make  Purcey  sick?  What  he  do  dat  for?"  Her 
mother  gave  her  some  evasive  reply,  and  sent  her 
down  into  the  kitchen.  So  when  Eloise  answered 
the  bell,  and- her  mistress  asked  why  Purcey  did  not 
respond,  Elo,  as  she  was  called,  replied, — '"Cause  she 
can't.'7 

"Because  she  can't?    What  does  that  mean,  Elo?" 

"Sheded,  dats  why." 

"  Dead  !"  said  Jonathan,  rising  to  his  feet.  "  Dead !" 
said  Mrs.  Maxwell,  placing  her  bottle  of  smelling- 
salts  to  her  nose. 

"  Yes,  ded,"  said  Elo.  "  She's  white  as  you  is,  Mis- 
ses, and  me  and  mamma  toted  her  up-stairs." 

Elo  knew  very  well  that  Purcey  was  not  dead,  but 
so  incontrollable  was  her  desire  for  mischief,  that 
she  would  pass  a  joke,  or  tell  a  lie,  just  as  quickly 
over  a  dead  person  as  a  live  one. 


THE   SEPAKATION.  121 

Jonathan,  knowing  well  Elo's  disposition  and  weak- 
ness for  prevaricating,  while  moved  by  the  serious 
air  she  assumed  at  first,  upon  recovering  himself,  said: 
"Elo,  tell  me  the  truth,  or  I'll  whip  you." 

"Truf,  truf,"  said  Elo,  "dat's  de  truf.  What  I 
care  if  you  whip  me?  Ain't  I  a  nigger?  and  aint  nig- 
gers made  to  be  whipped  ?" 

Mrs.  Maxwell  said :  "  Jonathan,  don't  stop  to  argue 
with  that  imp,  but  go  and  see  if  there  is  anything 
the  matter." 

Now  this  is  just  the  very  thing  that  Jonathan  was 
trying  to  avoid.  He  suspected  there  was  something 
wrong  with  Purcey,  as  he  had  every  reason  to  sus- 
pect; but  he  had  no  intention  of  facing  Elva  in  the 
kitchen,  and  have  those  dreadful  eyes  of  hers  look- 
ing reproachfully  at  him.  Turning  to  Elo,  who  had 
got  herself  pretty  well  balanced  on  one  foot,  the 
other  being  hid  out  of  sight  by  the  long,  gown-like 
garment  she  wore,  he  said:  "Go  and  tell  Aunt  Elva 
to  come  here." 

Elo  made  a  bound  for  the  door,  turning  Master 
Archie,  whom  his  father  had  placed  upon  the  floor, 
head  over  heels,  and  left  the  room. 

Jonathan  then  said  to  his  wife,  "1  expect  that 
wench  is  going  on  because  of  William." 

"  William !"  said  his  wife.  "  Who  is  that?" 

"Her  husband." 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  with  him?" 

"  I  sold  him  to  Colernan." 


122  BOND   AND    FREE. 

"  Why  should  she  go  on  so  about  him,  dear?"  said 
Mrs.  Maxwell. 

"  Oh,  she  always  had  a  great  fancy  for  him,  and 
now  I  expect  the  devil  will  be  to  play." 

"  I  don't  see  why  that  should  be,  she  will  soon  get 
over  that  You  have  plenty  as  good  niggers  upon 
the  place  as  William.  She  will  soon  be  in  love  with 
some  of  them."  And  Mrs.  Maxwell  laughed. 

This  is  the  view  Mrs.  Maxwell  took  of  it.  She 
could  not  understand  how  Purcey,  a  slave,  could  have 
any  lasting  affection  for  a  husband.  She  could  not 
understand  why  such  affection  could  not  be  as  easily 
transferred  from  one  slave  to  another,  as  it  never  en- 
tered that  lady's  mind  that  such  a  thing  as  affection 
existed  within  the  bosom  of  a  black  person.  They 
might  form  attachments,  or  have  a  preference  for  one 
another,  but  affection  was  a  thing  which  only  white 
people  were  capable  of  displaying.  Mrs.  Maxwell 
knew  but  very  little  of  her  husband's  affairs,  or,  in- 
deed, did  she  care  much  about  them,  being  one  of 
those  indolent  ladies  who  occupied  her  time  between 
dress  and  French  novels.  She  had  no  household 
cares,  nor  did  she  seek  any.  A  servant  was  always 
at  her  hand,  to  attend  her  wants,  and  whenever  her 
husband  mentioned  anything  to  her  about  the  affairs 
of  the  house,  she  at  once  showed  signs  of  being  bored. 
She  believed  that  all  persons  born  black  were  in  their 
proper  place  when  in  bondage,  and  it  was  the  invi- 
olable right  of  the  master  to  dispose  of  the  slave  as 
he  saw  fit. 


THE    SEPARATION.  123 

So,  as  a  matter  of  course,  Jonathan  met  with  no 
reproof  from  the  companion  of  his  life  for  doing  a 
thing  which,  were  it  not  that  he  had  steeled  himself 
to,  might  have  pricked  his  conscience. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ANOTHER  CLASS  OF  SLAVES. 

It  was  some  time  before  Elva  obeyed  her  master's 
summons.  A  desperate  struggle  passed  within  the 
woman's  bosom,  as  she  stood  there  over  her  daughter, 
feeling  certain  that  Purcey's  illness  would  be  a  pro- 
longed one.  Purcey's  mind  was  flighty,  and  con- 
stantly wandering,  her  husband  being  the  subject  of 
her  incessant  mutterings.  It  was  a  blessing  that  Elva 
was  so  good  a  nurse,  for  medical  experience  was  hard 
to  obtain,  and,  besides,  that  was  not  often  employed 
to  attend  slaves.  When  she  had  calmed  Purcey,  and 
got  her  into  a  slight  slumber,  she  went  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Maxwell  awaited  her. 
Elva  entered,  addressed  her  mistress,  and  said :  "Did 
you  send  for  me,  Miss  Jinnie?"  This  was  the  name 
by  which  she  had  always  addressed  her  mistress  be- 
fore her  marriage  to  Jonathan,  and  she  had  never 
dropped  the  Miss,  since  Jennie  Partington  became 
Mrs.  Maxwell. 

"Yes,  Elva,"  said  Mrs.  Maxwell,  "what  is  the 
matter  with  Purcey?" 

"  Why,  de  poor  chile's  taken  very  sick,  and  I  had 
to  put  her  to  bed." 

"  What  caused  her  sickness?" 

"  Don't  know  zackly,  Miss  Jinnie.  She  complained 

[124] 


ANOTHER    CLASS    OF    SLAVES.  125 

soon  as  she  got  home,  and  I  seed  she  was  not  well, 
and  after  William  bid  her  good-bye,  poor  chile,  she 
give  right  up." 

Elva  knew  that  both  her  mistress  and  master  were 
anxious  to  know  how  Purcey  took  the  separation  from 
her  husband,  and  she  was  trying  to  avoid  giving  them 
the  information  they  sought.  She  had  told  the  truth 
when  she  said  Purcey  was  unwell,  when  she  returned 
home,  for  so  she  was.  The  long  separation  from  her 
husband  and  child,  and  the  dreadful  suspense  she  en- 
dured from  day  to  day,  never  hearing  anything  of 
them,  and  having  no  knowledge  as  to  whether  they 
were  dead  or  alive,  was  a  strain  upon  mind  and  body 
that  took  almost  a  superhuman  effort  to  stand.  Her 
excessive  joy  consequent  upon  her  return  to  them, 
and  then  to  be  told  that  her  husband  was  to  be  sep- 
arated from  her,  that  he  had  been  sold,  was  indeed 
enough  to  have  completely  unseated  her  reason.  Jon- 
athan then  questioned  Elva  closely, 'to  ascertain  the 
real  cause  of  her  illness,  but  elicited  only  the  infor- 
mation that  she  had  a  raging  fever,  and  that  it  would, 
perhaps,  be  many  weeks  before  she  would  be  able  to 
attend  to  her  duties.  He  finally  dismissed  her,  with 
instructions  to  give  her  such  attention  as  she  required 
and  to  send  one  of  the  other  servants  to  perform  the 
duty  of  maid  for  her  mistress. 

Elva  returned  to  the  sick-room  of  her  daughter. 
Falling  upon  her  knees  by  the  bedside,  she  prayed 
fcr  Purcey's  safe  restoration  to  health.  It  was  many 
days  after  that  prayer  before  Purcey  was  restored  to 


126  BOND   AND    FREE. 

health,  but,  thanks  to  the  skillful  nursing  of  her 
mother,  she  was  brought  back  almost  from  death's 
door. 

When  she  had  sufficiently  recovered,  Elva  told 
her  all  that  had  happened,  for  it  was  all  like  a  dream 
to  her,  and  implored  her  to  give  no  outward  sign  of 
her  feelings.  She  also  gave  her  the  message  William 
had  left  for  her.  Purcey  was  greatly  changed ;  she 
was  no  longer  the  bright,  vivacious,  and  sprightly 
woman  as  before;  she  looked  years  older  than  she 
really  was.  Sickness  and  sorrow  had  ploughed  wrin- 
kles upon  her  brow,  and  her  beautiful  black  hair 
had  all  come  out.  Her  step  was  no  longer  light  and 
elastic,  while  the  lustre  of  her  handsome  black  eyes 
was  dimmed.  She  was  at  all  times  thoughtful.  She 
kept  close  to  her  own  room,  so  as  to  be  ready  to 
carry  out  the  resolve  she  had  long  since  made. 

Upon  her  child  she  bestowed  great  care  and  atten- 
tion. She  would  sit  with  him  in  her  arms  for  hours, 
and  tell  him  how  he  had  been  robbed  of  his  father, 
and  then  burst  out  in  a  fit  of  tears  exclaiming,  "  Oh, 
if  they  were  to  take  mamma's  darling  from  her,  it 
would  kill  her!''  How  she  would  watch  over  him, 
constantly  fearing  the  possibility  of  his  being  torn 
from  her  in  the  night !  She  thought  of  all  the  chan- 
ces she  would  ever  have  of  seeing  her  husband  again. 
She  wondered,  should  she  flee  to  Canada  or  the  free 
States,  how  he  would  ever  find  her.  Then  she  was 
anxious  as  to  whether  he  would  ever  return  to  her 
again.  Oh,  if  she  only  dared  approach  her  master, 


ANOTHEK   CLASS   OF   SLAVES.  127 

• 

and  plead  for  his  return !  But  such  a  thought  was 
useless,  hopeless!  She  could  but  follow  his  parting 
advice,  and  make  her  escape  with  her  child. 

Purcey's  idea  of  the  world,  as  we  may  know,  was 
not  extensive.  It  was,  in  fact,  rather  simple.  The 
distance  from  North  to  South,  from  bondage  to  free- 
dom, while  apparently  great,  did  not  seem  to  her 
simple  mind  so  far  as  to  discourage  her  in  making  an 
attempt  to  reach  the  North,  and  thus,  at  least,  obtain 
freedom  for  herself  and  child.  She  believed  that 
William  would  be  true  to  his  word,  and  would,  at 
the  very  first  opportunity,  make  his  escape.  But 
what  if  Judge  Coleman  should  sell  him  to  the  traders 
and  he  be  taken  to  the  far  South  ?  She  knew  that 
in  this  event  his  chances  of  escape  would  be  very 
poor.  When  she  would  think  of  his  being  thus  sold, 
a  thrill  of  horror  would  pass  over  her,  and  her  very 
heart  would  sink  within  her.  If  she  could  only  have 
advised  him  to  escape  before  he  was  taken  out  of  the 
State  of  Virginia,  if  she  had  only  made  him  leave 
when  he  told  her  he  had  been  sold !  But,  perhaps, 
had  he  attempted  to  escape  then  he  would  only  have 
been  captured,  and  then  certainly  sold  South.  All 
these  thoughts,  and  many  others,  passed  through  the 
woman's  mind,  until  she  became  so  depressed  in  spirits 
that  life  seemed  hardly  worth  a  struggle. 

Elva.  however,  kept  constantly  advising  her  to 
keep  up  and  trust  in  the  good  Lord,  that  He  was  suf- 
ficient for  all  things.  Purcey,  while  she  followed 
her  mother's  advice,  was  inclined  often  to  think  that 


128  BOND   AND    FREE. 

the  Lord  had  forsaken  the  poor  slaves.  When  she 
would  think  of  their  sufferings,  of  their  trials  and 
tribulations,  she  would  often  find  her  faith  and  con- 
fidence in  the  Lord  wavering ,  but  when  her  mother 
would  cite  to  her  instances  of  the  Lord's  goodness 
and  mercy,  doubt  and  fear  would  vanish,  and  new 
life,  new  hope,  would  spring  up  in  her  bosom.  She 
felt  for  her  child's  sake  that  she  must  obtain  free- 
dom. Why  should  her  child  be  a  child  of  bondage? 
Why  should  he  be  reared  and  taught  to  acknowledge 
another  man  as  his  master?  Why  should  he  be 
brought  up  in  ignorance  and  servitude?  Perhaps  it 
was  the  Anglo-Saxon  blood  in  her  veins  that  lent 
vigor  to  these  thoughts,  or  it  may  have  been  the 
promptings  of  a  mind  which  was  only  stinted  in  in- 
telligence from  its  surroundings,  but  which,  if  given 
an  opportunity  for  development,  would  have  shone 
as  brightly  as  human  minds  are  wont  to  shine.  She 
determined,  however,  to  follow  her  husband's  advice, 
which  would  be  carrying  out  the  resolve  she  had 
made  while  away  with  her  mistress. 

She  set  about  making  every  preparation  for  her 
escape.  She  had  amassed  quite  a  little  sum  of  money, 
which  she  had  made  by  attention  to  visitors  at  the 
Maxwell  house.  Her  mistress  was  also  very  careless 
at  times  with  her  pin-money,  and,  though  it  might 
not  have  been  strictly  honest,  yet  Purcey  had  often 
abstracted  a  quarter  and  a  half-dollar  which  she  added 
to  her  little  store  of  wealth.  Having  but  little  use 
for  money,  her  savings  amounted  to  a  considerable 


ANOTHER   CLASS   OF   SLAVES.  129 

sum.  She  had  for  a  long  time  entertained  the  inten- 
tion of  purchasing  her  freedom  previous  to  her  mar- 
riage, and  this  is  why  she  worked  so  assiduously  to 
obtain  the  means  to  carry  out  her  intention. 

There  were  many  strange  features  connected  with 
slavery,  and  not  the  least  strange  or  magnanimous  of 
its  features  was  the  privilege  given  by  many  of  the 
slaveholders  to  their  servants  to  purchase  their  free- 
dom. There  were  many  instances  where  advantage 
was  taken  of  this  magnanimity.  Men  would  pur- 
chase their  own  liberty,  and  then  hiring  themselves 
out,  would  purchase  their  wives  and  children  by 
their  earnings.  It  took  years,  often,  to  accomplish 
this  end,  but  so  great  was  the  desire  for  freedom  that 
time  was  reckoned  only  by  the  cost  of  liberty.  There 
are  many  living  to-day  who,  having  purchased  their 
own  freedom,  sold  themselves  into  bondage  again, 
and,  with  the  money  thus  realized,  purchased  wife 
and  child.  Again  and  again,  have  men  and  women 
sold  themselves  to  purchase  the  liberty  of  some  loved 
one.  What  a  traffic,  what  a  business  for  man  to  en- 
gage in  against  man !  But  this  was  one  of  the  bless- 
ings of  slavery.  The  master  who  gave  such  a  priv- 
ilege to  his  slaves  was  an  angel  compared  with  those 
who  denied  it.  There  were  many  of  this  class  of  ne- 
groes in  the  South,  and  they  were  proscribed  by  master 
and  slave.  Notwithstanding  this,  they  were  thrifty 
and  ambitious.  In  many  sections,  where  the  preju- 
dice was  not  too  strong,  they  accumulated  comfort- 
able fortunes  and  engaged  in  profitable  business. 

9 


130  BOND   AND    FREE. 

"Free  niggers"  is  what  they  were  termed,  and  great 
<jare  was  taken  to  keep  as  wide  a  gulf  between  them 
and  the  slave  class  as  possible. 

There  was  also  another  class  of  people  peculiar  to 
the  South,  who  were  far  more  despicable  than  a  free 
negro  or  a  slave.  They  were  the  poor  unfortunate 
whites,  unfortunate  from  the  fact  that  they  did  not 
own  any  of  their  fellow-men.  They  were  despised 
by  the  master,  mistrusted  by  the  slave,  and  treated 
with  contempt  by  the  free  negro.  Despised  as  they 
were  by  all  classes,  they  still  had  many  great  advan- 
tages over  the  poor  slave.  They  were  white ;  hence, 
their  backs  were  spared  from  the  lash.  They  were 

Jr  «/ 

men  before  the  law,  and  no  cruel  master  could  sever 
their  family  ties.  Yet  they  found  life  a  burden,  and 
their  circumstances  seldom  changed.  They  were  left 
to  eke  out  a  miserable  existence  by  stealing,  begging, 
or  any  other  means  they  might  employ.  The  feeling 
of  hatred  which  existed  between  them  and  the  slaves, 
was  both  universal  and  mutual.  There  was  no  work 
that  they  could  not  be  employed  to  perform,  espec- 
ially such  pleasing  employment  as  negro-catching. 
They  were  the  human  blood  hounds  of  the  South,  the 
baccilli  of  the  country.  They  were  to  be  found  in 
the  valleys  and  mountains,  and  tradition  says  that 
they  were  frequently  known  to  subsist  on  herbs,  barks, 
and  wild  roots.  There  was  but  one  time  in  the  year 
when  they  found  honest  and  remunerative,  though 
hard,  labor.  This  was  in  the  harvest  season.  Many 
slave-holders  would  employ  them  to  assist  in  harvest- 


ANOTHER   CLASS   OF   SLAVES.  131 

ing,  and  no  slave  was  worked  harder  or  longer  than 
were  these  "poor  white  trash,"  as  the  slaves  called 
them.  A  slave  might  have  a  holy  reverence  for  a  man 
who  owned  a  hundred  of  his  brethren,  but  for  a  white 
man  who  owned  none  he  had  not  the  least  regard. 
Living  in  a  rude  little  hut  in  the  mountain,  within 
a  few  miles  of  the  Maxwell  estate,  was  a  family  of 
three,  consisting  of  father,  mother,  and  daughter. 
They  were  living  and  true  representatives  of  the 
poorer  class  of  whites.  William  Silvers  was  a  man 
who  had  seen  some  forty  hard  winters,  was  of  long, 
lank  stature,  with  thin  hair  hanging  about  his  head 
like  wax-ends.  He  was  known  throughout  the  neigh- 
borhood as  "Skinny."  His  wife  was  also  of  tall 
stature,  with  a  wiry  frame,  and  worked  in  a  harvest 
field  with  as  much  activity  as  a  man.  Their  daugh- 
ter was  a  maid  of  some  seventeen  years,  who  kept  the 
family  from  starving  because  she  made  friends  with 
the  slaves  about  the  neighboring  plantations,  and 
would  receive  from  them  many  an  apron  of  corn- 
meal  and  pieces  of  bacon.  The  Silvers,  like  nearly 
all  of  the  poor  whites,  were  very  ignorant.  Reading 
and  writing  were  lost  arts  to  them,  and  the  school- 
house  and  church  were  places  they  never  frequented. 
Sallie  Silvers  and  Purcey  had  long  been  friends. 
This  was  in  itself  something  very  unusual,  but  when 
it  is  considered  that  Purcey  represented  one  of  the 
more  intelligent  class  of  slaves,  the  ordinary  prejudice 
that  existed  between  the  poor  whites  and  the  slaves 
did  not  enter  into  her  disposition. 


132  BOND    AND    FEEE. 

Sallie  had  often  been  kindly  treated  by  Purcey, 
and  the  girl's  devotion  to  her  was  really  remarkable. 
She  had  often  declared  that  she  longed  for  the  time 
to  prove  her  friendship  for  Purcey.  During  Purcey 's 
illness  she  frequently  called  at  the  house  to  inquire 
about  her,  and  evinced  much  solicitude  about  her  re- 
covery. When  Purcey  became  convalescent,  she  was 
often  at  her  bedside,  and  would  sit  for  hours  convers- 
ing and  sympathizing  with  her.  Sallie  Silvers, 
though  seventeen  years  of  age,  white  and  free,  could 
not,  as  we  have  said,  read  or  write ;  and  as  she  sat  by 
Purcey's  bedside  one  day,  Purcey  said  to  her  : 

"  Sallie,  can  you  read  ?" 

"No,"  answered  Sallie,  "wish  I  could." 

"  Why  don't  you  learn  ?" 

"Whose  gwine  to  learn  me?  Ma  and  pa  can't." 

"  Why,"  said  Purcey,  "  I  will  teach  you  what  lit- 
tle I  know,  then  you  can  teach  yourself;  but  you 
mustn't  tell  anybody." 

"No,  indeed!"  said  Sallie,  "I  wish  I  could  read, 
den  I  might  be  a  lady  some  day." 

Then  Purcey  told  her  what  she  had  seen  while 
traveling  with  her  mistress ;  how,  in  big  cities,  she 
could  get  along  so  nicely,  because  she  was  white,  and 
promised,  that  if  she  would  hurry  and  learn  to  read 
and  write,  she  would  tell  her  how  to  become  a  lady. 
Purcey  then  gave  her  some  money,  and  told  her  to 
go  to  the  village  and  purchase  a  book.  Sallie  fol- 
lowed her  instructions,  and,  until  Purcey  was  per- 
fectly well,  she  and  Sallie  Silvers  were  close  com- 


ANOTHER   CLASS   OF  SLAVES.  133 

panions,  and  no  one  except  Elva  and  themselves  knew 
why  they  were  so  often  closeted.  Purcey's  object  in 
showing  so  much  anxiety  about  Sallie's  acquirement 
of  knowledge  was  known  only  to  herself. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  FUGITIVES. 

When  Joe  Berry  and    his   companions  were   at- 
tacked near  the  village  of ,  they  all  separated 

and  ran  in  different  directions.  The  direction  which 
they  were  to  go  was  mutually  understood,  and,  al- 
though it  was  several  days  before  they  got  together 

again,  they  at  last  met  near  C ,  in  Pennsylvania, 

on  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna  river.  Our  heroes 
had  all  met  with  various  adventures  upon  the  road, 
but  every  man  had  successfully  eluded  his  pursuers, 
notwithstanding  the  many  difficulties  they  had  to  en- 
encounter.  Even  Ben  Myers,  with  his  large  feet 
and  dilapidated  shoes,  made  his  escape  and  joined 
his  friends.  The  adventures  of  some  of  them  are 
worth  relating.  Joe,  after  making  his  escape  from 
the  rider  of  the  ringbone  horse,  went  directly  to 
the  mountain ;  he  traveled  during  the  greater  por- 
tion of  the  day,  and  well  into  the  night  Fearing 
that  he  might  get  lost  in  the  mountain,  he  attempted, 
in  the  night,  to  find  a  road,  and,  if  possible,  get  some 

one  to  direct  him  to  the  town  of  H .     He  came 

to  what  he  supposed  was  a  path,  and  which  he  thought 
would  lead  him  out  of  the  mountain.  After  follow- 
ing it  for  some  distance,  he  felt  his  feet  gradually 
sinking  under  him,  and  began  to  struggle  and  clutch 
violently  at  the  surrounding  shrubbery  and  tufts  of 

[134] 


THE   FUGITIVES.  135 

grass,  but  these  afforded  him  no  support,  and  he  kept 
sinking  until  his  body  sank  partly  below  the  earth. 
He  then  clutched  at  the  soft  earth  about  him,  which 
only  crumbled  in  his  hands.  Down,  down  he  went, 
until  several  feet  below  the  surface,  when  the  earth 
seemed  to  cave  in  and  wedge  his  body  in  so  tight  that 
only  his  arms  were  free,  which  he  had  been  thought- 
ful enough  to  keep  above  his  head.  Yainly  did 
he  struggle  to  extricate  himself.  He  clutched,  he 
grabbed,  he  struggled  until  he  became  perfectly  ex- 
hausted. During  the  night,  a  terrific  rain-storm  set 
in,  and  the  water  rushed  in  upon  him  until  he  thought 
he  was  doomed  to  a  living  grave.  For  two  days 
and  nights  did  Joseph  Berry  remain  almost  entombed 
in  that  ditch.  He  had  given  up  all  hope  of  ever 
extricating  himself,  and  had  resigned  himself  to  suf- 
fer a  slow,  painful  death. 

The  hours  seemed  like  days,  and  the  days  months. 
He  had  struggled  until  his  strength  had  become  ex- 
hausted several  times,  but,  being  a  resolute  as  well  as 
a  powerful  man,  on  the  third  night  of  his  imprison- 
ment, after  regaining  strength,  he  made  an  effort  to  free 
his  feet.  By  terrific  straining,  he  succeeded.  Pressing 
his  elbows  against  the  side  of  the  ditch,  he  raised  his 
body ;  the  mud  and  water  flowed  under  his  feet,  giv- 
ing him  a  slight  but  treacherous  foot-hold.  He 
worked  his  body  up  this  way  until  his  head  was 
above  the  surface,  and,  at  last,  by  summoning  all  of 
his  remaining  strength,  he  threw  himself  upon  the 
earth.  There  he  lay  for  several  hours,  being  too 


136  BOND   AND   FREE. 

much  weakened  to  move.  As  soon  as  he  became 
sufficiently  strong  to  move  about,  he  crawled  to  a 
neighboring  farm-house  where,  fortunately,  the  peo- 
ple were  friendly.  They  gave  him  every  attention, 
and  in  a  few  days  he  joined  his  companions,  bearing 
the  evidences  of  his  adventure. 

The  Widow  Dean's  Jim  also  had  a  very  remark- 
able adventure.  After  Jim  left  the  widow's  bed  and 
board  so  unceremoniously,  without  even  giving  his 
dear  old  mistress  an  affectionate  farewell,  that  kind 
old  lady  set  a  heavy  reward  upon  his  head.  So  de- 
sirous was  she  for  his  return,  that  the  services  of  a 
man  was  engaged,  who  never  was  known  to  start  out 
for  a  runaway  slave  without  capturing  him.  This 
important  personage  was  well  known  among  the 
slaves,  and  as  his  business  required  a  knowledge  of 
the  slaves,  there  were  few  whom  he  did  not  know. 
Jim,  being  rather  a  conspicuous  figure,  owing  to  his 
natty  way  of  dress  and  the  great  liberty  he  had  al- 
ways enjoyed,  was  as  well  known  to  Si  Blackson  as 
an  intimate  friend,  for  often  had  Si,  the  "  nigger- 
catcher,"  as  he  was  called,  remarked,  when  seeing 
Jim  pass,  "  That  nigger  has  as  much  privilege  as  a 
white  man." 

The  Widow  Dean  sent  for  this  gentleman,  sup- 
plied him  with  all  the  necessary  funds,  and  di- 
rected him  to  follow  Jim  to  the  end  of  the  earth, 
if  necessary,  to  capture  him ;  but  in  the  event  of  his 
capture,  he  was  to  be  returned  unharmed,  or  no  re- 
ward would  be  forthcoming.  Si  Blackson  set  out 


THE    FUGITIVES.  137 

upon  his  mission,  advertising  in  every  town  and 
village,  giving  a  thorough  description  of  the  man 
of  whom  he  was  in  search.  Several  times  he  was 
close  upon  Jim's  track,  but  did  not  succeed  in  cap- 
turing him.  Jim  became  separated  from  the  rest  of 
the  party  when  they  were  attacked,  and  made  as  di- 
rectly for  the  point  at  which  they  had  agreed  to  meet 
as  he  could.  He  went  very  cautiously,  however, 
avoiding  all  towns  or  main  roads.  He  struck  the 
course  of  the  Susquehanna  river,  and  coming  in  sight 
of  a  small  town,  thought  he  would  risk  getting  some- 
thing to  eat.  Jim  had  changed  his  rich  broadcloth 
for  Virginia  home-spun ;  his  hair  was  clipped  close ; 
his  usual  swinging  gait  was  changed  to  a  steady,  firm 
tread,  making  it  difficult  to  recognize  him  in  his 
disguise.  He  walked  up  to  the  only  inn  in  the  town 
and  asked  for  something  to  eat  The  landlord  of  the 
place  said  to  him : 

"Where  are  you  bound  for,  young  man?" 

This  question  put  Jim  to  thinking,  so  in  order  to 
avoid  any  suspicion,  he  said : 

"  I  am  on  the  hunt  for  work,  sir." 

"Where  are  you  from?  " 

"  York,  sir,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"  Well,  I  want  a  stable-boy,  and  I  think  you  will 
suit  me.  What's  your  name?  " 

"Dick  Davis,  sir,"  replied  Jim. 

"All  right,  Dick,  go  into  the  kitchen  and  get  some- 
thing to  eat,  and  then  come  out  to  the  stable.  I  shall 
show  you  what  to  do," 


138  BOND   AND    FREE. 

Jim  had  no  intention,  at  first,  of  stopping  at  this 
place  to  work ;  but  he  had  been  caught  so  neatly  that 
he  concluded  to  work  a  few  days,  then  quietly  slip 
away  and  proceed  on  his  journey,  intending,  in  the 
meantime,  to  secure  whatever  information  he  could 
relative  to  the  country  he  had  to  travel  through. 
The  idea  of  changing  his  name  occurred  to  him  as 
soon  as  the  question  was  put  to  him  by  the  landlord, 
for  Jim  intuitively  realized  that  there  was  more 
safety  in  traveling  under  an  assumed  name  than  un- 
der his  real  name.  He  knew,  also,  that  he  would  be 
advertised,  and  in  the  advertisement,  a  description  of 
him  as  well  as  his  name  would  appear. 

The  fugitives  had  been  informed  that  they  would 
strike  the  Underground  Eailroadin  Pennsylvania,  and 
it  was  understood  that  a  section  of  it  was  to  be  found 

in  the  town  of  H .     This  is  why  they  all  made 

for  this  point,  or,  it    is  probable,  they  might  never 
have  met  again. 

This  wonderful  institution,  which  proved  the  safe 
conductor  of  many  a  child  of  bondage  to  free- 
dom, must  ever  remain  dear  to  the  hearts  of  many 
a  one  of  the  present  generation.  The  prayers 
that  have  been  sent  up  to  Heaven  by  the  delivered, 
for  the  protection  and  blessing  of  the  noble-hearted 
men  and  women  who  directed  it,  have  been  answered 
on  more  than  one  occasion.  Many  of  these  noble 
souls  have  long  since  been  gathered  home  to  their  re- 
ward, but,  through  the  intelligence  of  one  of  them,  a 
representative  of  our  race,  the  record  of  their  glorious 


THE    FUGITIVES.  139 

work  has  been  preserved,  and  it  will  be  perused  in 
future  years  with  increased  interest. 

Dick  Davis,  or  the  Widow  Dean's  Jim,  soon  be- 
came a  favorite  about  the  tavern,  and  picked  up  many 
an  odd  penny  by  his  attention  to  the  quadrupeds  and 
the  boots  of  travelers.  He  had  about  made  up  his 
mind  to  leave  his  new  employer,  when  one  morning, 
shortly  after  this  decision,  a  stranger  rode  up  to  the  tav- 
ern all  bespattered  with  mud,  and  his  horse  covered 
with  foam.  He  dismounted,  threw  the  bridle  rein 
to  Dick,  and  directed  him  to  take  his  horse  to 
the  stable,  feed  him,  and  rub  him  down  well,  toss- 
ing Dick,  at  the  same  time,  a  silver  quarter.  Dick 
walked  off  to  the  stable  leading  the  horse,  and  his 
heart  worked  its  way  up  into  his  very  mouth,  for  he 
recognized  in  this  stranger  no  less  a  person  than  Mr. 
Si  Blackson.  There  is  a  common  saying  among  white 
people  that  they  cannot  tell  one  negro  from  another. 
Never  place  any  confidence  in  this  statement,  for  when 
you  take  a  real  Southerner,  he  may  have  a  hundred 
negroes  upon  his  plantation,  yet  he  will  pick  any  one 
of  them  out  from  among  a  million  every  time. 

Human  nature  is  human  nature,  whether  it  be 
adorned  in  white  or  black. 

There  are  numerous  things  which  men  do  instinct- 
ively, and  often  by  so  doing  either  attract  attention 
unintentionally  to  or  from  themselves.  It  may  have 
been  from  instinct,  or  it  may  have  been  prompted  by 
a  suspicion  of  mutual  recognition  that  Si  Blackson, 
upon  entering  the  tavern  door,  turned  around,  either 


140  BOND    AND    FREE. 

to  look  after  his  horse,  or  at  the  retreating  figure  of 
Dick.  Dick  turned  his  head  at  the  same  time,  and 
their  eyes  met.  If  there  was  any  recognition  on  the 
part  of  Si  Blackson,  he  showed  no  evidence  of  it,  but 
walked  up  to  the  bar  of  the  tavern,  gulped  down  the 
contents  of  a  glass  filled  with  brandy,  and  ordered 
his  breakfast.  It  was  one  of  those  beautiful  spring 
mornings,  the  sun  was  stealing  out  from  the  light,  over- 
hanging clouds  which  appeared  to  shake  themselves 
out  of  their  folds,  after  being  pinned  back  to  permit 
the  heavier  clouds,  which  had  rolled  away  or  vanished 
into  mist,  to  pass  on.  Mr.  Blackson  seated  himself 
upon  a  bench,  and  pulled  out  a  varied  assortment  of 
colored  cards,  calculated  to  attract  the  eye.  Having 
selected  a  bright-colored  one,  he  walked  out  to  the 
stable.  There  he  found  Dick  grooming  his  horse. 
Jim,  alias  Dick,  had  been  haunted  by  many  misgiv- 
ings from  the  moment  he  saw  Si  Blackson  ride  up  to 
the  tavern  door ,  he  knew  that  Blackson  was  in  search 
of  him,  and  he  also  knew  it  would  be  inexpedient  to 
try  and  avoid  him.  He  knew,  furthermore,  that  Si 
Blackson  was  only  one  man,  and  he  had  determined 
that  no  one  man  on  earth  should  ever  capture  him 
and  return  him  to  slavery  alive. 

He  had,  by  some  means,  secured  a  pistol,  which 
he  kept  well  primed  and  always  upon  his  person. 
When  Blackson  entered  the  stable,  Dick  continued 
grooming  the  horse,  apparently  not  noticing  him,  but 
watching  him  closely  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye: 


THE   FUGITIVES.  141 

Blackson  also  watched  him  some  time  in  silence, 
when  he  said : 

"Boy,  have  you  got  a  box  and  hammer? " 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Dick,  and  he  procured  those  arti- 
cles for  Blackson.  That  worthy  directed  him  to 
carry  them  out  into  the  road,  and  while  Dick  held 
the  box,  he  nailed  up  against  a  high  fence  the  fol- 
lowing advertisement: 

KUNAWAY! — A  mulatto  boy,  age  eighteen,  about 
five  feet  six  inches  in  height,  good  features,  hair 
rather  long  and  black,  speaks  very  quick,  dressed  in 
a  full  black  suit  of  clothes,  and  very  dandy  in  ap- 
pearance. Twelve  hundred  dollars  will  be  paid  for 

his  return  to  Mrs.  W.  Dean,  P B county, 

Virginia.  Five  hundred  dollars  for  any  information 
leading  to  his  capture.  N.  B. — Said  runaway  an- 
swers to  the  name  of  Jim.  No  harm  must  be  done 
him. 

Fifteen  hundred  dollars  was  the  real  reward  offered 
by  the  Widow  Dean,  but  Mr.  Blackson  withheld 
three  hundred  for  himself.  This  is  the  card  which 
was  tacked  up,  and  James  Seabury,  alias  Dick  Davis, 
stood  there  and  innocently  held  the  box  for  Blackson 
to  advertise  a  price  upon  his  head.  Dick  did  not 
know  what  the  card  read,  but  he  suspected  what  it 
was,  and  while  Blackson  was  at  breakfast,  Dick  got 
one  of  the  kitchen  maids  to  read  it  for  him.  He  now 
found  himself  in  a  predicament.  Flight  was  next  to 
impossible,  for  that  would  only  invite  immediate 
pursuit  and  certain  capture.  There  was  no  one  to 


142  BOND   AND    FREE. 

whom  he  could  appeal  for  advice,  as  he  feared  to 
trust  anybody  about  the  tavern,  notwithstanding  they 
had  been  so  kind  to  him.  He  finally  determined  to 
watch  Mr.  Blackson  closely,  and,  immediately  upon 
that  gentleman's  departure,  to  take  his  own  to  a 
more  healthful  retreat. 

Mr.  Blackson,  having  finished  his  breakfast,  paid 
his  bill,  then  ordered  his  horse.  After  a  few  hurried 
words  with  the  landlord,  he  proceeded  on  his  journey. 

Dick's  mind  was  greatly  relieved  when  he  saw  him 
depart.  But  what  had  he  said  to  the  landlord  ?  Was 
he  the  subject  of  their  conversation?  He  had  no 
means  of  ascertaining  this,  but  in  order  not  to  attract 
attention,  he  kept  at  his  work  apparently  as  disinter- 
ested in  the  arrival  and  departure  of  the  astute  Mr. 
Blackson,  as  he  had  been  in  the  hundreds  of  other 
travelers  who  frequented  the  tavern.  The  advertise- 
ment attracted  a  great  deal  of  attention,  and  was  the 
subject  of  much  comment  by  the  loiterers  about  the 
tavern.  It  was  not  an  unusual  thing,  however,  in  that 
locality,  or  perhaps  he  might  have  been  apprehended 
at  once. 

Nearly  all  runaways  were  published  in  this  or 
some  other  way,  and  their  pursuers  would  often 
carry  them  into  the  courts  of  a  State,  if  necessary  to 
prove  their  property.  In  all  the  vast  territory  of  this 
great  country,  the  poor,  hunted,  fugitive  slave  had  no 
protection.  "Prove  your  property  and  take  it"  was 
the  decree  of  the  Government,  and  he  who  aided  or 
abetted  the  escape  of  his  fellow-man  from  bondage  to 


THE   FUGITIVES.  143 

freedom  was  a  criminal  before  the  law.  No  part  of 
this  great  country  was  held  sacred  from  the  tread  of 
the  negro-hunter,  and  none  of  the  statutes  of  its  law 
threw  around  the  fugitive  a  single  mantle  of  protec- 
tion. The  deepest-dyed  villain,  committing  a  crime 
in  one  State,  could  flee  to  another,  necessitating  the 
carrying  out  of  important  forms  of  law  before  his  re- 
turn. But  these  creatures,  guilty  of  no  greater  crime 
than  trying  to  obtain  that  for  which  hundreds  of  noble 
men  have  suffered  death,  were  hunted  like  beasts  of 
the  forest,  and,  when  found,  returned  to  abject  servi- 
tude. What  a  travesty  on  j  ustice !  There  is  a  land,  how- 
ever, which  proved  an  asylum  for  them,  and  no  man 
who  sought  to  deprive  another  of  his  liberty  dared 
set  foot  upon  its  soil  for  that  purpose.  It  was  to  this 
asylum  that  thousands  fled,  and  found  refuge  and  pro- 
tection. 

Dick  worked  in  a  state  of  agony  and  suspense  all 
day.  Often  was  he  tempted  to  tear  down  that  pla- 
card, but  dared  not.  He  concluded  that,  under  the 
cover  of  night,  and  before  the  sun  rose  the  next  day, 
he  must  put  as  many  miles  as  possible  between  him 
and  that  place;  and  when  the  shadows  of  night  closed 
in  upon  that  little  wayside  inn,  when  the  inmates  were 
wrapped  in  sweet  slumber,  this  being,  not  yet  a  man 
by  the  law  of  the  land,  stole  softly  from  the  place 
where  he  had  sought  refuge  for  several  days. 

He  went  directly  to  the  river.  Finding  a  boat 
moored  there,  he  rowed  himself  across  and  set  the 
boat  adrift,  never  stopping  for  rest  or  refreshment 


144  BOND   AND    FREE. 

until  he  reached  the  town  of  H—  — .  Here,  he 
learned  that  his  companions  had  taken  the  Under- 
ground Railroad  for  Canada,  only  a  couple  of  days  be- 
fore. In  a  day  or  two,  Si  Blackson  returned  to  the 
tavern  where  he  had  left  Dick.  He  was  now  upon 
his  return  home,  having  thoroughly  placarded  the 
country  with  descriptions  and  rewards  for  the  appre- 
hension of  the  runaway.  Upon  reaching  the  tavern, 
he  was  struck  by  the  absence  of  the  urbane  stable- 
boy,  and  made  inquiries  as  to  his  whereabouts.  When 
informed  that  Dick  had  rather  unceremoniously  taken 
his  leave,  Mr.  Blackson  began  to  have  suspicions,  and 
finally  the  conviction  dawned  upon  him  like  the  ef- 
fulgence of  a  noon-day  sun,  that  the  very  man  who 
had  held  the  box  for  him  to  stand  upon,  two  days  be- 
fore, was  the  identical  James  Seabury,  for  whom  he 
was  in  quest.  Mr.  Blackson  made  the  air  blue  with 
his  curses ;  he  raved  and  tore  about  the  place  like  a 
madman,  and  as  no  one  could  give  him  any  informa- 
tion as  to  what  direction  Dick  had  taken,  he  turned 
his  horse's  head  in  the  same  direction  whence  he  had 
just  come,  going  in  precisely  a  contrary  direction  to 
that  which  Dick  had  taken. 

The  Widow  Dean  never  recovered  her  lost  pro- 
perty, but  Mr.  Blackson  charged  her  well  for  his  use- 
less advertising  and  Jiis  exhaustive  but  fruitless  hunt 
for  the  fugitive. 

Joe  Berry,  his  brother,  Henry,  and  the  rest  of  the 
party,  upon  coming  within  a  few  miles  of  the  town 
of  H ,  were  met  in  the  mountain  by  a  con- 


THE    FUGITIVES.  145 

ductor  of  the  Underground  Railroad,  who  conducted 
them,  under  cover  of  night,  to  the  residence  of  a 
friend  in  the  town.  Although  they  were  not  entirely 
out  of  danger,  the  air  seemed  lighter,  the  heavens 
looked  brighter,  their  step  was  more  elastic,  and  their 
spirits  more  buoyant.  They  were  quartered  in  the 
house  of  this  friend  until  the  train  was  made  up,  when 
they  were  dispatched  through  to  Canada,  by  the  way 

of  E ,  Pennsylvania,  across  the  lake  into  freedom. 

When  the  Canadian  shore  heaved  in  sight,  this  band 
of  fugitives  bowed  their  heads  in  prayer.  And  such 
a  prayer  as  went  up  from  those  untutored  hearts ! 
They  stepped  upon  the  shores  of  Canada,  happy  that 
they  were  at  last  free.  Free !  Ah,  what  a  word !  They 
had  never  realized  its  meaning  before.  Free  to  roam 
all  over  those  shores,  free  to  go,  free  to  come,  free 
from  the  cruel  sting  of  the  lash,  free  from  the  hot 
scorching  sun  of  the  corn-field  and  the  tobacco  plan- 
tation, free  from  massa,  free  from  missa !  No  wonder 
they  sang  with  soul-inspired  strains : 

Sing  praises  to  Jehovah  we  are  free, 

Safe  on  the  shores  of  Canada. 
Let  us  unite  in  heart  and  hand, 

And  shout  for  joy  in  the  freedmen's  land. 


10 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
PUPIL  AND  TEACHER. 

The  anxiety  on  the  part  of  Sallie  Silvers  to  learn 
to  read  and  write,  as  the  necessary  accomplishments 
to  become  a  lady,  was  so  very  great  that  she  soon 
mastered  these  obstacles  in  her  way.  She  improved 
the  little  opportunity  she  had,  and,  assisted  by  the  little 
knowledge  of  Purcey,  became,  in  a  short  time,  quite 
conversant  with  general  topics  from  whatever  papers 
she  could  secure.  There  being  no  restrictions  against 
her  purchasing  books  and  papers,  she  procured  many  of 
these  useful  articles  with  the  money  supplied  her  by 
Purcey.  Together  they  learned  rapidly,  and  Purcey 
took  every  advantage  of  the  pre-arranged  plans 
agreed  upon  between  her  and  her  mother.  All  the 
rich  and  costly  dresses  given  her  by  her  mistress 
were  cut  and  fitted  to  Sallie.  Purcey's  inability  to 
attend  her  mistress  had  been  stretched  to  the  fullest 
limit,  and  both  she  and  her  mother  feared  that,  unless 
she  soon  took  her  departure,  something  might  inter- 
vene to  prevent  it.  Her  mother  contributed  quite  a 
little  sum  of  money  to  that  which  Purcey  had,  and 
she  was  now  ready  to  start. 

All  arrangements  being  completed,  she  and  her 
mother  took  Sallie  into  their  confidence.  The  scheme 
proposed  for  Purcey's  contemplated  escape  was  care- 

[146] 


PUPIL   AND   TEACHER.  147 

fully  and  skillfully  arranged  by  Elva.  They  had  the 
utmost  confidence  in  Sallie,  whose  desire  to  travel 
and  become  a  lady  was  so  great  that  she  hesitated 
not  a  moment  to  enter  into  the  suggestions  presented 
to  her  by  Purcey  Her  mountain  home,  with  its  pov- 
erty and  hardships,  grew  inferior  and  distasteful  to 
her,  as  rare  pictures  of  a  life  of  ease  and  comfort  were 
displayed  to  her. 

She  had  now  learned  something  of  the  world,  and 
urged  by  that  ambition  so  prevalent  in  youth,  she 
yearned  for  an  opportunity  to  better  her  condition  in 
life.  She  never  realized  what  slavery  was,  as  she  had 
seen  it  only  from  a  point  where  its  terrors  had  not 
impressed  her  with  any  objection  to  the  evil,  and 
never  until  Purcey  related  to  her  her  cruel  separa- 
tion from  her  husband  did  she  realize  its  horrors.  She 
became,  then,  an  earnest  sympathizer  with  the  people 
who  were  made  to  suffer  in  bondage,  as  well  as  a  fit 
subject  to  aid  in  carrying  out  the  projected  plans  of 
Purcey  and  her  mother.  Sallie  was  now  informed 
that  she  was  to  travel  as  the  mistress  of  Purcey,  and 
under  this  guise  was  to  go  North  into  a  free  country 
She  must  go  and  inform  her  parents  that  she  had 
found  employment  which  would  keep  her  from  home 
for  some  time.  This  would  prevent  them  from  mak 
ing  any  inquiries  as  to  her  whereabouts,  or  suspecting 
her  connection  with  Purcey 's  escape. 

So  enthusiastic  was  Sallie  when  she  thought  of  the 
elegant  dresses  she  was  to  wear,  and  how,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  she  was  to  assume  the  role  of  a 


148  BOND    AND    FREE. 

wealthy  lady,  she  fairly  danced  for  joy,  and  grew 
impatient  for  the  hour  to  start. 

Much  difficulty  was  experienced  in  packing  their 
things,  as  the  greatest  caution  had  to  be  used.  Then 
some  one  must  be  found  to  conduct  them  safely  to 
the  river.  This  was  delegated  to  Elva,  who  succeeded 
in  securing  Uncle  Joshua,  one  of  Mr.  Biggers'  seduc- 
tive and  most  trusty  servants.  Uncle  Josh  had,  for 
a  long  time,  been  trying  to  pay  his  "  'dresses,"  as  he 
called  it,  to  Elva.  The  shining  orb  of  all  his  hopes 
was  Sister  Elva ;  he  thought  of  her  by  day  and 
dreamed  of  her  by  night.  She  was  the  one  being 
needful  to  his  happiness,  and  when  favored  by  her 
company,  though  on  the  shady  side  of  sixty,  he  as- 
sumed the  activity  of  one  in  the  prime  of  life.  For 
Elva,  he  would  have  taken  nine  and  thirty  on  his 
bare  back — he  had  taken  it  more  than  once  for  things 
far  less  valuable.  For  her,  he  would  have  risked  steal- 
ing one  of  his  master's  young  shoats ;  she  was  the 
"charm  of  his  heart"  and  the  "apple  of  his  eye,"  and 
when  Elva  approached  him  on  the  question  of  ap- 
propriating a  horse  and  wagon  of  his  master's  to  con- 
vey a  friend  of  hers  to  the  river,  Uncle  Josh's  black 
face  broke  up  into  a  broad  grin,  as  he  said : 

"Sartinly,  Sister  Elva;  I'd  go  anywhar  for  you. 
I'd  tote  dem  on  my  back  to  'blige  you." 

"Do  you  think  you  could  git  back  in  time  and 
not  be  caught?  'cause  I  wouldn't  want  you  to  git  in 
any  trouble,"  and  Elva  gave  him  one  of  her  sweetest 
smiles. 


PUPIL    AND   TEACHER.  149 

Uncle  Josh  was  lifted  to  the  seventh  heaven  of 
hope  when  he  saw  that  smile.  He  replied,  with  an  air 
of  confidence  and  bravado :  "  'Scovered,  chile  ? 
trouble?  Don't  you  weep  for  me,  for  by  de  help 
of  de  good  Lord,  I'll  be  back  and  hab  dat  critter  in 
de  field  'fore  Mars  Biggers  turn  ober  for  de  secon' 
nap." 

This  having  been  satisfactorily  arranged,  Uncle 
Josh  arrived  on  time  with  the  wagon.  The  things 
were  stowed  away,  and  Purcey  bade  farewell  to  her 
mother,  and  with  her  child  and  Sallie  Silvers,  dressed 
in  one  of  Mrs.  Maxwell's  fine  silks,  set  her  face 
toward  freedom.  There  was  not  a  soul  upon  the 
Maxwell  place,  excepting  Elva.  who  knew  of  Pur- 
cey's  flight,  and  the  parting  between  mother  and 
daughter  was  very  affecting.  They  remained  for  a 
moment  embraced  in  each  other's  arms,  while  tears 
flowed  down  from  their  eyes,  and  prayers  poured 
forth  from  their  hearts.  The  parting  was,  indeed,  a 
sad  one,  as  it  was  the  last  embrace  the  mother  ever 
received  from  the  daughter,  or  the  daughter  from 
the  mother. 

The  one  was  leaving  her  who  had  given  her  birth, 
to  find  liberty ;  while  the  other  consigned  herself  to 
hopeless  servitude  to  protect  the  life  and  make  se- 
cure the  flight  of  her  child.  Elva  had  all  of  that  love 
and  affection  which  abounds  in  the  heart  of  a  loving 
mother,  but  over  this  particular  child,  she  displayed 
greater  solicitude  than  for  Emiline  or  Elo.  If  there 
be  any  such  thing  as  being  fated,  such  was  the  case, 


150  BOND   AND   FREE. 

Elva  thought,  of  these  two.  They  were,  in  common 
with  many  other  slaves,  satisfied  with  their  lot.  Nor 
did  they  ever  express  a  desire  for  liberty,  or  display 
any  disposition  to  be  other  than  contented  under 
every  and  all  circumstances.  But  how  often  had 
her  heart  been  caused  to  bleed  for  Purcey  when  she 
looked  upon  her  beauty,  her  natural  endowments, 
her  tastes,  though  uncultivated,  yet  so  refined !  She 
asked  herself  the  question,  '  why  should  this,  her 
child,  apparently  endowed  with  all  the  higher  attri- 
butes of  womanhood — why  should  she  remain  a 
slave?  as  fair  as  her  mistress,  as  beautiful  as  any 
woman  could  be,  why  should  she  not  be  free?  ' 
Then  she  knew  that  as  long  as  Purcey  was  held  in 
bondage,  she  would  be  a  victim  to  the  lust  of  those 
who  might  be  disposed  to  possess  themselves  of  her. 
Like  all  slaves,  in  her  master's  eye,  a  price  was  upon 
her.  head,  and  who  could  tell  the  day,  the  hour,  when 
she  might  be  transferred  from  Jonathan  Maxwell  to 
a  master  with  less  regard  for  virtue? 

At  last  they  parted,  and  when  Uncle  Josh  drove 
away,  Elva  entered  the  house  a  changed  woman.  She 
determined  that,  at  the  risk  of  her  own  life,  Jonathan 
Maxwell  should  never  pursue  her  child.  Life  had  no 
more  charms  for  her;  she  felt  that  she  had  nothing 
more  to  live  for,  but  to  make  secure  the  escape  to  free  • 
dom  of  her  child.  She  was,  doubtless,  actuated  in  this 
belief  by  a  sense  that  Grod  had  spared  her  to  be  a  me- 
dium which  must  stand  between  Purcey's  escape  and 
the  possibility  of  her  recapture.  She  would  not  hesi- 


PUPIL   AND   TEACHER.  151 

tate  now  to  dye  her  hands  in  her  master's  blood,  if 
needs  be,  to  save  her  child.  When  she  entered  the 
house,  she  fell  upon  her  knees  and  asked  for  guid 
ance,  for  strength,  for  intelligence,  that  she  might  be 
able  to  act.  When  she  arose,  Elva  Berry  was  a 
changed  woman.  Her  beautiful  black  eyes  glowed 
with  a  new,  but  dangerous,  light ;  her  lips  were 
bloodless,  her  teeth  were  tightly  clenched,  while  her 
hands  worked  convulsively.  She  felt  as  though  she 
possessed  the  strength  of  a  lion,  and  she  was  now 
ready  to  throw  herself  between  the  fleeing  daughter 
and  any  power  that  dared  obstruct  her  in  her  flight. 

Uncle  Josh  plied  the  whip  to  his  master's  horse, 
and,  without  a  single  stop  during  that  long  ride,  sue 
ceeded  in  landing  the  whole  party  safely  at  the  ferry 
They  had  taken  the  precaution  to  unload  their  bag 
gage  and  send  Uncle  Josh  off  before  they  aroused 
the  ferryman.     That  worthy  came  forth  rubbing  his 
eyes,  and,  after  being  induced  by  a  liberal  reward, 
took  them  safely  across  the  river  to  a  point  where 
tickets   were   purchased   by  Sallie.      These   tickets 
sufficed  to  carry  them  some  distance,  but  they  left 
the  road  many  miles  from  the  place  intended,  and  ob- 
tained tickets  in  an  entirely  different  direction. 

When  Uncle  Josh  turned  his  master's  horse  to- 
ward home,  he  chuckled  to  himself  as  he  felt  the  four 
silver  half-dollars  in  his  pocket,  which  Purcey  had 
given  him.  The  horse  was  pretty  tired,  and  he  al- 
lowed him  to  jog  quietly  along,  while  he  gave  him- 
self up  to  thoughts  about  Sister  Elva  and  the  silver 


152  BOND   AND    FREE. 

half-dollars.  He  had  been  thus  ruminating  for  some 
time,  when  his  horse  came  to  a  full  stop.  Uncle  Josh 
was  of  a  very  superstitious  nature,  like  the  most  of 
slaves ;  he  had  all  kinds  of  beliefs.  He  was  looked 
upon  as  possessing  certain  mysterious  powers  himself. 
He  had  voodooed,  or  conjured,  it  was  said,  quite  a 
number  of  enemies,  having  been  known  to  boil  nails 
in  a  pot  over  a  slow  fire  while  he  went  through  a 
peculiar  incantation,  his  victim,  in  the  meantime, 
writhing  in  pain  and  crawling  upon  all  fours.  He 
was  never  found  without  a  rabbit's  foot  in  his  pocket, 
or  a  piece  of  opossum  skin  tied  around  his  left  wrist. 
In  addition  to  this,  he  possessed  a  bag  of  lizard  dust. 
He  was  held  in  awe  and  reverence  by  all  the  negroes 
who  knew  him.  For  to  incur  Uncle  Josh's  displeasure 
was  to  meet  some  day  with  some  terrible  misfortune. 

Like  many  others  of  his  race,  who  laid  claim  to  the 
possession  of  these  mysterious  powers,  he  was  very 
cunning.  It  was  not  the  deep,  designing  cunning,  or 
craftiness,  of  a  more  intelligent  mind,  but  that  low 
cunning  born  of  instinct,  such  as  a  fox  is  noted  for, 
or  such  as  is  unaccompanied  by  perfect  reason.  He 
succeeded,  however,  in  keeping  those  around  him  in 
perfect  fear  of  his  hidden  powers,  while  at  the  same 
time  he  did  not  possess  enough  to  keep  his  back  from 
being  well  scarred  by  Mr.  Biggers'  overseer. 

He  was  not  unlike  all  others  of  his  class  in  league 
with  unseen  powers,  or  the  imps  of  darkness.  They 
all  failed  to  practice  any  of  their  arts  upon  their  mas- 
ters, and  this  is  why  so  many  doubt  the  efficacy  of 


PUPIL   AND   TEACHER.  153 

their  work.  It  may  be  that  a  white  man  was  not 
susceptible  to  their  charms,  or  it  may  be  they  feared 
to  practice  upon  that  race.  Nevertheless,  it  is  a  fact 
that  no  voodoo  doctor,  conjurer,  or  enchanter  was 
ever  known  to  make  his  master  pine  away,  imitate  a 
quadruped,  or  endure  any  of  the  other  various  suffer- 
ings which  these  sons  of  the  hidden  arts  were  said  to 
cause. 

When  Uncle  Josh's  horse  stopped,  he  backed  in 
the  shafts,  staggered,  and  fell,  snapping  one  in  twain. 
Uncle  Josh  sprang  to  the  ground  with  the  agility  of 
a  youth ;  he  looked  up  and  down  the  road,  for  he  be- 
lieved something  had  appeared  before  the  horse,  caus 
ing  him  to  stumble  and  fall.  Uncle  Josh  always 
claimed  that  if  a  horse  stopped  still  in  the  road, 
pricked  up  his  ears,  and  refused  to  go,  all  one  had  to 
do  was  to  look  between  his  ears,  and  he  could  see  the 
cause  of  the  horse's  fright.  The  horse  was  now  in 
such  a  position  that  he  could  not  well  see  between 
his  ears,  for  the  animal  was  lying  upon  the  ground 
quite  still,  and  his  body  beginning  to  assume  the  pro- 
portions of  a  bloated  herring.  The  old  man  did  all 
in  his  power  to  coax  the  horse  upon  his  feet-,  he 
pleaded  to  him,  he  raised  his  head,  he  unfastened  the 
harness  and  pushed  the  wagon  away  from  his  heels. 

Walking  around  his  body,  he  set  up  one  of  his  pe- 
culiar incantations,  but  all  to  no  avail.  He  took  from 
his  pocket  a  bag  made  of  rabbit  skin,  which  contained 
some  kind  of  pulverized  roots.  The  contents  he  scat- 
tered around — this  being  to  keep  away  anything  evil- 


154  BOND    AND   FREE. 

disposed.  After  spending  much  time  in  a  useless  at 
tempt  to  get  his  horse  upon  his  feet,  the  old  man 
looked  up  at  the  heavens,  and  discovered  the  gray 
dawn  of  morning  stealing  from  over  the  eastern  hills. 
He  knew  well  what  his  back  would  have  to  take 
should  he  be  missed  by  the  overseer,  and  to  be 
caught  with  his  master's  horse  and  wagon  would  be 
worse  yet.  Then  they  might,  perhaps,  force  him  to 
tell  what  he  was  doing  out  all  night  with  the  horse 
and  wagon.  This  he  determined  never  to  reveal,  let 
come  what  would. 

When  Uncle  Josh  saw  morning  approaching  so 
closely,  his  efforts  to  get  the  horse  upon  his  feet  be- 
came more  and  more  frantic  and  ludicrous.  He  tugged 
at  his  tail,  he  raised  his  head  and  tried  to  get  that  part 
of  the  horse's  anatomy  upon  his  back,  murmuring  to 
himself,  "  You'se  got  to  go  home  before  daylight,  if 
I  has  to  tote  you."  Looking  up  the  road,  he  saw  a 
man  approaching  him,  who  was  just  about  to  turn  off 
of  the  main  road  and  enter  a  lane.  Uncle  Josh  dis- 
covered that  he  was  a  slave  just  returning  from  a 
night's  revel.  He  hailed  the  man : 

"See  har,  come  bar,  honey,  and  help  me  git  dis 
boss  on  my  back ,  he's  got  to  go  home,  for  it's  dead 
nigger  or  dead  hoss,  anyways." 

The  man  came  forward,  and  when  he  looked  at  the 
ludicrous  situation,  he  laughed  loudly  and  said  : 

'•What's  de  matter,  Uncle?7' 

"Lors,  honey,  I'se  got  to  git  dis  hoss  home  'fore 


PUPIL    AND    TEACHER.  155 

daylight,  and  he's  done  gone  laid  down  on  me  and 
won't  move." 

The  man  happened  to  have  some  knowledge  of 
horse-flesh,  and  after  a  careful  examination,  said : 

"You've  drove  him  hard,  Uncle,  but  guess  we  can 
bring  him  about." 

He  went  to  work,  and  in  a  short  time  had  the  ani- 
mal upon  his  feet.  The  horse  was  hitched  to  the 
wagon ,  and  Uncle  Josh,  profuse  with  thanks,  mounted 
his  seat  and  soon  reached  home.  He  had  just  time 
to  turn  the  horse  into  the  field,  when  the  overseer's 
horn  blew  for  all  hands  to  turn  out.  Mr.  Biggers 
was  minus,  from  this  escapade,  the  use  of  one  of  his 
best  horses,  for  the  one  Uncle  Josh  drove  so  hard 
that  night  was  hopelessly  foundered,  and  the  slaves 
accounted  for  it  by  declaring  that  the  witches  had 
ridden  the  animal  to  death. 

The  superstition,  which  was  so  prevalent  among 
the  slaves,  was  not  confined  to  them  alone,  for  it  af- 
fected the  masters  as  well.  There  was  not  a  South- 
ern slaveholder,  cruel  to  his  slaves,  who  was  not  as 
abject  a  prey  to  superstitious  fears  as  the  most  ignor 
ant  of  his  negroes.  Our  knowledge  of  the  character  of 
Abraham  Biggers  would  place  him  among  this  class. 
When  he  heard  of  one  of  his  best  horses  being  hope- 
lessly foundered  over  night,  instead  of  seeking  the 
true  cause,  sought  solace  in  brandy  and  water,  and 
attributed  his  loss  to  unknown  ill  luck. 

Purcey  and  Sallie  were  speeding  along,  placing 
as  great  a  distance  between  them  and  the  old  home 


156  BOND    AND    FREE. 

as  the  great  iron  monster  could  make  with  each  rev- 
olution of  the  great  driving-wheels.  The  two  women 
did  not  occupy  the  same  car,  for  that  was  not  custom. 
The  alleged  mistress  and  her  servant  were  separated 
during  the  entire  distance  they  traveled  on  the  rail- 
road. Each  was  left  alone  to  meditate  and  allow  her 
thoughts  to  indulge  in  whatever  caprice  she  saw  fit. 
The  thoughts  of  Purcey  were  freighted  with  fear;  al- 
though there  was  much  noise  in  the  car,  made  by  a 
number  of  rough,  coarse  men,  who  made  the  air 
dense  with  smoke  from  their  pipes  and  cigars  and 
almost  blue  with  their  curses,  yet  she  seemingly  saw 
not  nor  heard  a  thing  that  was  said  or  done.  She 
was  the  object  of  many  insulting  and  brutal  remarks, 
for  it  was  in  the  men's  car  she  rode.  Many  comments 
were  passed  upon  her  appearance  and  value. 

The  girl  had  employed  every  art  she  knew  to  make 
herself  look  simple  and  plain,  but  her  efforts  in  this  di- 
rection seemed  to  have  made  her,  on  the  contrary, 
all  the  more  beautiful  and  attractive.  She  had  con. 
cealed  her  luxurious  black  hair,  now  grown  again 
since  her  recovery,  under  a  neat  little  cap,  which 
nicely  displayed  the  beautiful  outlines  'of  her  face. 
Her  child,  asleep  upon  her  lap,  caused  her  much  anx- 
iety ;  she  knew  that  a  heavy  reward  would  be  offered 
by  her  master  for  her  capture,  and  she  feared  that 
she  would  be  detected  through  the  child.  Its  hair 
was  long  and  black  like  the  mother's.  It  had  been 
Purcey 's  delight  and  pride  to  do  it  up  in  curls,  which 
hung  gracefully  about  its  shapely  head.  As  she  sat 


PUPIL   AND   TEACHER.  157 

there  and  gazed  upon  the  sleeping  infant,  she  con- 
cluded that  those  curls  must  be  cut  off.  Puree j  was 
of  very  fair  complexion,  and  the  child  was  but  a 
shade  or  two  darker  than  the  mother.  How  she 
wished  for  the  power  to  change  its  complexion  as 
easily  as  she  could  cut  off  those  locks,  knowing  as 
she  did  how  accurate  would  be  the  description  given 
by  her  master!  Having  decided  to  cut  off  the  child's 
hair,  she  produced  from  her  pocket  a  pair  of  shears 
and  began  the  work  of  despoliation.  As  she  took 
up  each  one  of  those  shining  black  curls  and  severed 
it  with  the  sharp  shears,  it  seemed  that  each  clip  sent 
a  thrill  of  pain  to  her  heart.  She  had  to  perform  the 
work  quietly,  so  as  not  to  attract  the  attention  of 
those  around  her,  and  when  she  had  finished  she 
gathered  the  ringlets  in  her  hand  and  pressed  them 
to  her  lips.  Quietly  raising  the  car  window,  she 
threw  them  out,  keeping  but  a  single  curl  which  she 
pressed  to  her  bosom,  then  to  her  lips,  and  then  con- 
cealed it  in  her  pocket-book. 

The  money  with  which  Purcey  had  supplied  her- 
self was  worn  in  a  canvas  belt,  placed  about  her  waist 
Being  in  coin,  it  was  a  terrible  weight  for  her  to  carry. 
It  must  have  tired  her  greatly,  yet  she  heeded  not  the 
excessive  physical  strain  upon  her;  she  thought  only 
of  the  time  which  seemed  to  lengthen  itself  out.  How 
slow  the  cars  seemed  to  travel !  How  she  longed  and 
wished  for  the  hour  when  she  should  place  her  foot 
upon  free  soil !  She  could  not  sleep,  she  could  not 
eat,  yet  she  felt  strong.  She  would  close  her  eyes 


158  BOND   AND    FREE. 

and  count  the  seconds ;  they  seemed  to  her  like  min- 
utes. Her  hand  was  kept  upon  her  sleeping  child,  as 
though  she  feared  that  some  of  the  coarse,  brutal  men 
who  occupied  the  car  would  wrest  it  from  her. 

While  sitting  with  her  hand  clasping  the  little 
hands  of  her  child,  with  her  eyes  closed,  and  her 
mind  wandering  back  to  her  mother  and  her  husband, 
who  had  been  so  ruthlessly  taken  from  her,  she  felt 
a  rough  hand  grasp  her  shoulder.  In  a  second  she 
was  upon  her  feet,  her  hand  sought  her  pocket,  and 
she  stared,  without  a  quiver  of  the  lip  or  the  twinkle 
of  an  eye,  into  the  face  of  the  man  who  had  so  roughly 
accosted  her. 

The  man  who  stood  before  her  was  one  of  that  type 
of  Southern  gentlemen,  from  whose  appearance  it  was 
easy  to  detect  that  he  was  a  "nigger  trader."  He 
looked  at  Purcey  with  his  bleared  eyes,  and  said : 

"Gal,  where  you  travelin'  to?  " 

"I  am  traveling  with  rny mistress,"  said  Purcey. 

"  That  ain't  what  I  asked  you.  Whar  you  going  ?  " 

Purcey,  divining  the  man's  object  in  asking  the 
question,  as  well  as  discovering  that  he  had  no  sus- 
picion about  her,  replied  :  "  I  don't  know  where  my 
mistress  is  going,  as  she  never  tells  me  her  business." 

"  Well,  whar  you  from  ?  " 

"  Eichmond,"  said  Purcey. 

"  Air  you  and  your  mistress  travelin'  alone  ?  " 

"We  are." 

"  How  would  you  like  me  for  a  master  ?  "  And,  as 


PUPIL   AND   TEACHER.  159 

he  said  this,  he  puffed  a  volume  of  tobacco  smoke 
from  his  corn-cob  pipe  full  in  her  face. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  girl,  turning  her  head  to 
avoid  the  smoke. 

"  Wai,  I  think  I'll  see  your  mistress ;  by  G — d,  I 
would  like  to  own  a  gal  like  you ;  I'll  give  a  thou- 
sand down." 

As  he  said  this,  the  child,  which  had  been  lying 
upon  the  seat,  awoke,  and  began  to  cry.  Purcey 
turned  toward  it  and  sat  it  up,  giving  it  a  large  glass 
ball  to  play  with. 

"Wai,"  said  the  trader,  "that's  a  likely-looking 
brat.  So  you  and  your  mistress  are  travelin',  and 
she  'lows  y ou  to  take  that  brat  along  ?  D — m  good 
mistress.  I'll  go  and  see  if  I  can  strike  a  bargain 
with  her." 

When  he  had  turned  his  back,  Purcey  smiled, 
and  settled  down  into  her  seat.  The  trader  retired 
to  one  end  of  the  car,  where  a  group  of  his  compan- 
ions had  a  board  placed  upon  their  knees,  and  were 
deeply  engaged  in  a  game  of  draw-poker. 

"  Say,  Jamison,"  said  the  trader,  as  he  approached 
the  party,  "  I  am  going  to  buy  that  wench  over  thar 
with  the  brat" 

"  Well,  go  buy  her,  then,"  said  Mr.  Jamison.  "  Don't 
bother  me  about  it ;  she  ain't  mine." 

"  Wai,"  said  Mr.  Sledger,  "  I  know  she  ain't,  but  I 
want  you  to  drive  the  bargain  for  me." 

"  Who  does  she  belong  to  ?  Two  cards  !  "  said  Mr. 


160  BOND    AND    FREE. 

Jamison,  as  lie  threw  a  five  dollar  gold  piece  on  the 
board,  and  laid  down  two  cards. 

"  To  a  young' woman  in  the  other  car.  I  can't  talk 
to  women,  and  I  want  you  to  go  and  talk  the  busi- 
ness." 

Mr.  Jamison  was,  in  appearance,  as  well  as  in 
speech,  far  more  genteel  than  Mr.  Sledger.  Jamison 
was  a  man  of  gentlemanly  deportment,  but  fond  of 
sport ;  and  he  gained  a  rather  precarious  existence  as 
a  pettifog  lawyer.  His  garments  were  of  the  shabby- 
genteel  order,  and  his  silk  tile,  though  of  rather  an 
ancient  pattern,  was  brushed  to  a  glossiness  that  told 
of  much  labor  having  been  spent  upon  it.  He  was 
smooth  of  speech,  and  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of 
men  of  unsavory  character  in  their  dealings  with  the 
business  world.  In  fact,  he  earned  a  living,  in  find- 
ing loop-holes  in  the  law  for  the  escape  of  criminals, 
and  fixing  doubtful  papers  to  catch  and  hold  runaway 
slaves.  He  appeared  not  to  like  the  interruption  of 
his  sport.  Being  in  luck,  he  raked  in  the  contents 
of  the  pot  on  a  king  full,  and  jumped  up  ^from  the 
game  several  dollars  ahead,  remarking  that  he  must 
attend  to  some  business  for  his  friend. 

Mr.  Sledger  was  very  unlike  the  rather  slick-look- 
ing Jamison,  being  a  heavily  built  man,  with  coarse, 
vulgar  features.  A  frowsy  beard  of  terra  cotta  hue, 
made  so  by  frequent  expectorations  of  tobacco  juice, 
covered  his  chin.  His  shirt  front  was  far  from  being 
immaculate,  having  upon  it  the  traces  of  tobacco  juice 
and  evidence  of  long  wear.  His  large,  unshapely  head 


PUPIL  AND   TEACHER.  161 

was  adorned  with  a  wide-brimmed  slouch  hat,  under 
which  was  a  matted  mass  of  shaggy  hair.  To  say 
the  least,  he  was  rather  repulsive,  and  was.  as  he  ad- 
mitted, not  calculated  to  approach  any  woman,  espe- 
cially a  Southern  lady,  on  a  subject  of  purchasing  a 
likely-looking  slave  woman.  Jamison  was  given  to 
understand  that  he  was  to  seek  the  mistress  of  Par- 
cey,  and  ascertain  whether  she  was  for  sale.  In  case 
she  was  not,  he  was  to  offer  some  inducement  to  ef- 
fect a  purchase. 

"  How  am  I  to  find  the  mistress  ?  "  said  Jamison. 

"  Go  ask  the  gal  which  car  she's  in." 

Mr.  Jamison  pulled  himself  together,  looked  down 
at  his  boots,  the  toes  of  which  were  turned  up  much 
like  the  little  pug  nose  that  adorned  his  weazen  little 
face.  He  approached  Purcey  unnoticed  by  her,  as 
she  was  intently  gazing  out  of  the  window.  Having 
reached  the  seat  where  the  girl  was,  Mr.  Jamison  re- 
moved from  his  narrow,  little  mouth  the  remnants  of 
a  cigar,  which  he  had  held  between  his  teeth  since 
the  commencement  of  that  little  game  of  poker.  Lift- 
ing his  hat  with  mock  civility,  he  said : 

"  Ah,  young  woman,  in  which  car  would  I  likely 
find  your  mistress?  " 

Purcey,  turning  her  head  in  the  direction  of  the 
speaker,  said  :  "  In  the  other  car,  sir,1'  without  indicat- 
ing which  of  the  other  cars  she  meant 

"  Ah,  ah,  the  other  car !  First  car  rear  or  second  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  she  quietly  replied. 
11 


162  BOND   AND    FREE. 

"  Don't  know  ?  Ah,  well,  how  should  I  be  likely 
to  know  her?  " 

44  By  making  her  acquaintance  through  an  intro- 
duction, sir/' 

Mr.  Jamison  stepped  back  as  though  he  had  been 
struck.  He  had  never  heard  such  clever  language 
used  by  a  slave.  He  looked  at  the  girl,  who  had 
again  turned  her  face  toward  the  window,  with  a 
puzzled  air,  and  remarked,  as  he  shuffled  off :  "  Clever, 
ah,  very  clever.  I  will  seek  an  introduction  through 
some  one  else,  if  I  can — myself,  if  I  cannot." 

Mr.  Jamison  determined  to  trust  to  his  -luck  and 
his  astute  powers  in  discovering  the  mistress,  if  she 
was  on  the  train.  Entering  the  ladies'  car,  he  saun- 
tered through  it,  having  deposited  the  unlighted 
stump  of  his  cigar  in  his  coat  pocket.  When  he  got 
nearly  to  the  end  of  the  car,  he  observed  a  lady  sit- 
ting alone  rather  richly  attired,  and  reclining  at  ease, 
using  a  very  heavy  shawl  as  a  pillow.  In  her  lap 
lay  a  newspaper  and  a  novel.  She  was  young,  not 
at  all  unprepossessing,  and  apparently  asleep,  or  in  a 
deep  study. 

Jamison  scrutinized  her  as  closely  as  he  could  in 
'  walking  by.  He  walked  to  the  end  of  the  car,  re- 
traced his  steps,  and,  as  he  reached  the  seat,  raised 
his  hat  very  high,  bowed  very  low,  and  said :  "  Ah, 
ah,  miss,  do  the  negro  woman  and  child  in  the  other 
car  belong  to  you  ?" 

"  They  do ;"    and  Sallie   Silvers,  for  it  was  she, 


PUPIL   AND   TEACHER.  163 

grew  somewhat  excited  as  she  asked  eagerly :  "  Why, 
sir,  has  anything  happened  them  ?" 

"Ah !  ah !  no.  They  are  all  right.  Only  I  have 
been  much  attracted  by  them,  and  if  they  are  for  sale, 
I  should  like  to  purchase  them.  I  am  a  planter,  and 
assure  you  she  would  be  well  cared  for  and  be  in  good 
hands." 

Sallie,  to  be  sure,  did  not  have  a  very  extensive 
knowledge  of  men ;  her  little  education  and  experi- 
ence had  not  advanced  her  quite  that  far,  but  she  had 
that  natural  cleverness  of  a  woman  which  led  her 
to  the  conclusion  that  Mr.  Jamison  was  rather  a 
poor  specimen  of  a  Southern  planter. 

Having  reached  this  conclusion,  she  thought  that 
she  had  better  give  him  to  understand  at  once  that  he 
could  not  make  a  purchase.  Assuming  all  the  dig- 
nity she  could,  she  said  : 

"  The  woman  and  child  are  not  for  sale,  sir,  and  I 
do  not  see  what  right  you  have  to  approach  me  upon 
any  such  subject." 

Mr.  Jamison  was  a  very  cunning  man,  or  we  might 
say,  villain.  This  reply,  under  any  other  circum-' 
stances,  would  never  have  daunted  him ;  but  he  had 
approached  a  lone  lady,  a  complete  stranger  to  him, 
in  a  railway  car,  and  had  asked  an  impertinent  ques- 
tion. Should  he  insist  upon  further  conversation,  he 
feared  she  might  appeal  to  some  gentleman  for  protec- 
tion, or,  perhaps,  she  might  have  friends  in  the  car 
who  would  not  hesitate  to  handle  him  roughly.  He 
bowed  politely,  stepping  back  as  he  said : 


164  BOND    AND    FREE. 

"Ah  !  beg  pardon.  No  offense  meant,  none  what- 
ever, I  assure  you." 

He,  thereupon,  quickly  left  the  car.  Joining  Mr. 
Sledger  in  the  smoking-car,  he  informed  that  gentle- 
man that  it  was  no  use,  for  money  would  not  buy 
the  woman.  Mr.  Sledger  was  much  incensed,  and 
replied  : 

"  Then  by  G—    -  I  will  steal  her." 

"  What !"  said  Jamison,  springing  up  as  though  he 
had  sat  upon  the  business  end  of  a  tack.  "  Steal  her ! 
What  in  the  devil  will  you  do  with  the  brat?" 

"  Yes,  steal  her  and  the  brat,  too.  No  trouble  about 
the  young  one." 

This  novel  idea  had  struck  Mr.  Sledger  the  mo- 
ment he  learned  that  the  girl  could  not  be  bought. 
He  intended  to  learn  their  destination,  follow  them, 
and,  at  the  first  opportunity,  kidnap  the  girl  and 
carry  her  off.  Circumstances  alter  cases  sometimes, 
and  Mr.  Sledger  was  brought  to  a  full  realization  of 
this  fact  in  a  manner  he  had  not  anticipated. 

Through  tickets  had  been  purchased  by  Sallie 
for  a  certain  point  under  Purcey's  instructions,  but 
after  having  traveled  a  considerable  distance  from 
home,  Purcey  concluded  that,  in  order  to  elude  her 
pursuers,  they  had  better  get  off  at  some  small  station, 
and  cross  the  country  to  some  other  point  It  was 
now  growing  dark,  and,  under  the  cover  of  darkness, 
they  could  leave  the  train  at  the  next  station  without 
attracting  attention. 

Arriving  at  this  conclusion,  she  took  her  child,  eu- 


PUPIL   AND    TEACHER.  165 

tered  the  car  where  Sallie  was,  and  communicated 
her  plan,  which  was,  of  course,  agreed  to  by  Sallie. 
As  Purcey  left  the  seat  which  she  had  occupied  in 
the  smoking-car,  Mr.  Sledger  went  in  search  of  the 
conductor  to  ascertain  the  destination  of  the  lady  who 
had  the  negro  nurse  and  child.  The  conductor  in- 
formed him  that  they  had  through  tickets  for  one  of 
the  large  Northern  cities,  and  they  would  have  to 
change  cars  at  B —  -  to  take  another  road.  Sledger 
thought  this  his  chance ;  he  would  wait  until  they 
reached  B ,  then  he  woul,d  try  his  hand  at  kid- 
napping the  girl. 

Darkness  had  now  enveloped  within  its  folds  the 
surrounding  country.  The  night  was  not  only  dark, 
but  dismal.  The  clang  of  the  bell  of  the  locomotive, 
and  the  shrill  whistle  which  denotes  the  approach  to 
a  station,  sounded  upon  the  night  air.  The  speed  of 
the  train  was  slackened  as  the  trainman  shouted  the 
name  of  a  small  station.  Purcey  and  Sallie  gathered 
up  their  packages,  and  quietly,  almost  unnoticed,  stole 
from  the  train.  They  did  not  alight  upon  the  side  on 
which  was  the  building  used  as  a  station,  but  upon 
the  opposite  side.  The  wind  now  began  to  howl 
frightfully,  while  rain  poured  down  in  torrents.  The 
women  and  child  stood  closely  huddled  together. 
Shortly,  the  bell  of  the  locomotive  rang  again,  the 
whistle  tooted,  the  attendant  shouted  "  All  aboard  !  " 
and  the  train  slowly  pulled  away,  leaving  them  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  lonely  little  building.  A  dilapi- 
dated stage-coach  could  be  dimly  discerned  through 


166  BOND   AND    FREE. 

the  darkness  from  the  light  of  a  lantern  that  hung 
inside.  They  approached  the  coach  just  as  the  driver 
mounted  his  seat  and  drew  up  the  lines,  preparatory 
to  starting  for  the  little  village  located  some  five  miles 
distant. 

A  solitary  passenger  occupied  the  coach.  When 
the  driver  discovered  the  two  women  and  the  child 
approaching  him,  he  was  somewhat  surprised,  as  he 
did  not  see  them  alight  from  the  train.  Dropping 
the  lines,  he  got  down  from  his  seat  and  opened  the 
door  for  them.  Sallie  informed  him  that  they  desired 
to  go  to  the  village,  and  would  thank  him  to  take 
them  to  a  stopping- place  less  public  than  the  village 
inn.  They  entered  the  coach ;  the  driver  mounted 
his  seat,  cracked  his  whip,  and  started  off. 

Their  entrance  disturbed  the  solitude  of  the  only 
occupant,  a  little  old  man  with  a  very  florid,  but 
smooth,  face.  A  rim  of  silver-gray  hair  could  be 
discerned,  although  his  hat  was  pulled  over  his  eyes. 
The  old-fashioned  jack-lantern  which  hung  in  the 
center  of  the  stage  bumped  from  side  to  side  with 
every  lurch  the  vehicle  made,  as  it  rolled  slowly  over 
the  rather  rough  road.  The  occupant  of  the  coach 
had  evidently  intended  to  make  himself  as  comfort- 
able as  the  circumstances  would  permit,  thinking, 
perhaps,  that  he  would  be  the  only  passenger  for  the 
few  miles  he  had  to  journey.  He  had  stretched  his 
feet  across  the  seats,  tucked  his  hands  into  his  pockets, 
with  his  hat  well  down  over  his  eyes  to  keep  out  the 
sickly  glare  of  the  old  jack-lantern.  He  was,  con- 


PUPIL   AND   TEACHER.  167 

sequently,  not  in  a  very  good  humor  by  being  dis- 
turbed, and  had  to  give  up  the  solid  comfort  he  had 
intended  to  enjoy.  He  felt  annoyed  when  the 
women  entered  the  coach,  nor  did  the  fact  that  his 
traveling  companions  were  to  be  females  appear  to 
smooth  his  temper.  Purcey  and  Salhe  were  also  dis- 
appointed when  they  found  that  they  would  have  to 
ride  in  company  with  a  stranger.  They  dared  not 
exchange  a  word  or  look  for  fear  of  being  discovered. 
How  to  get  rid  of  this  unwelcome  and  unsolicited 
companion  was  a  puzzle. 

Women  are  remarkable  creatures  in  any  emer- 
gency ;  they  always  have  recourse  to  something.  It 
must  be  a  very  tight  place  where  a  woman  of  ordi- 
nary tact  and  ability  cannot  squeeze  through.  Pur- 
cey had  conveyed  to  Sallie,  without  uttering  a  word, 
that  the  little  man  must  be  gotten  upon  the  outside 
of  the  coach,  and  that  she  must  do  it.  Sallie  under- 
stood that  unless  this  was  done,  they  would  be  un- 
able to  mature  their  plans  before  reaching  the  village. 

The  little  man  with  the  rim  of  gray  hair,  having 
been  forced  to  withdraw  his  feet  from  their  comfort- 
able position,  sat  with  his  knees  drawn  nearly  up  to 
his  chin  ;  and,  from  the  occasional  grunt  which  came 
from  the  corner  of  the  coach  he  occupied,  the  women 
judged  that  he  was  either  very  much  out  of  humor 
with  himself  or  with  them.  Purcey  had  made  a 
pallet  for  her  child  in  a  corner  of  the  very  seat  upon 
which  the  little  old  man  sat.  The  child,  entirely  un- 
conscious of  its  rudeness,  was  stretching  and  kicking 


168  BOND    AND    FREE. 

out  its  feet  so  violently  that  the  little  man  would  have 
gotten  off  the  seat  had  there  been  any  other  to  oc- 
cupy. He  kept  crowding  closer  to  the  corner,  while 
with  each  gentle  pinch  given  the  child's  leg  by  Pur- 
cey, the  old  man  was  made  more  uncomfortable. 

Sallie,  seeing  that  it  was  now  time  for  her  to  speak, 
said,  addressing  Purcey : 

"  Perhaps  you  annoy  the  gentleman.  You  had  bet- 
ter take  the  child  and  sit  outside." 

There  are  but  few  men  of  Southern  birth  who  are 
not  chivalrous  and  gallant.  A  genuine  Southern 
gentleman  is  ever  ready  to  display  his  gallantry  ;  but 
such  gallantry  was  displayed  for  those  of  their  own 
color  only.  A  black  person  was  never  entitled  to 
any  recognition  in  this  direction.  Consequently,  to 
find  a  man  in  a  Southern  country  who  had  any  re- 
gard or  feeling  for  a  black  woman,  under  any  circum- 
stances, was  to  find  a  most  uncommon  man.  Such 
did  the  occupant  of  the  coach,  who  was  now  well 
wedged  up  in  the  corner  of  the  stage,  prove  to  be. 
He  may  have  been  actuated  by  a  sense  of  the  un- 
pleasantness of  the  situation,  or,  possibly,  by  a  desire 
to  display  his  gallantry  to  Sallie.  Whatever  the 
cause,  the  women  were  none  the  less  successful  in 
their  little  piece  of  strategy,  for  without  speaking  a 
word  to  them,  he  pushed  open  the  door,  commanded 
the  driver  to  stop,  alighted  from  the  coach,  and  took 
a  seat  outside  with  the  driver,  leaving  them  to  make 
whatever  arrangements  they  saw  fit. 

The  train  which  left  Sallie  and  Purcey  at  the  little 


PUPIL    AND    TEACHER.  169 

way  station  went  on  its  course  to  the  town  of  B . 


Mr.  Sledger,  noticing  that  Purcey  did  not  return,  had 
made  a  tour  of  inspection  through  the  train.  Failing, 
of  course,  in  finding  her,  he  came  back  hurriedly  and 
informed  Mr.  Jamison.  That  gentleman  had  been 
indulging  in  a  series  of  cat  naps,  and  rather  lazily 
rubbed  his  eyes,  slowly  taking  in  the  excited  man- 
ner of  his  friend,  who  was  prancing  about  the  car 
like  a  man  without  his  wits. 

"Ah !  Sledger,  old  boy,  what  in  the  deuce  is  the 
matter?" 

u Matter!  Matter  enough,"  said  the  irate  Mr.  Sled- 
ger ;  "  why,  that  d woman  with  the  brat  has  given 

me  the  slip." 

"Ah !  guess  not,  me  boy ;  she's  in  the  other  car 
with  her  mistress." 

"  No,  she  ain't.  I've  been  through  the  whole  d 

train,  and  can't  find  her  anywhere." 

By  this  time  Mr  Jamison  had  succeeded  in  rub- 
bing his  eyes  open,  and  was  becoming  interested  in 
the  conversation. 

"Ah !  better  ask  the  conductor.  She  must  have 
gotten  off  somewhere." 

The  conductor  was  sought,  but  nothing  could  be 
learned  of  that  official.  Some  two  or  three  stations 
had  been  stopped  at,  but  he  had  not  seen  the  lady 
with  the  negro  nurse  and  child  alight  at  any  of  them. 
This  rather  indefinite  information  did  not  bring 
much  solace  to  the  ruffled  bosom  of  Mr.  Sledger,  and 
he  consoled  himself  by  consigning  Mr.  Jamison,  Pur- 


170  BOND   AND    FREE. 

cey,  the  entire  train  and  all  on  board  to  a  place  where 
overcoats  are  superfluous  and  fans  at  a  premium. 
Mr.  Sledger  was  so  very  anxious  to  get  possession  of 
the  woman  with  the  brat,  as  he  expressed  it,  that  he 
would  have  returned,  had  he  known  where  to  go. 
As  it  was,  he  missed  making  the  rich  speculation  he 
had  intended,  and  did  not  have  the  pleasure  of  kid- 
napping the  girl. 

Purcey  and  her  companion  were  now  the  sole  oc- 
pants  of  the  interior  of  the  coach,  and  their  plans  as 
to  their  next  move  on  reaching  the  village  were  quietly 
discussed.  They  were  driven  to  the  house  of  a  respect- 
able widow  lady,  where  they  found  lodgings  for  the 
night 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER. 

Judge  Coleman  had  gone  a  number  of  miles,  fol- 
lowed by  his  recent  acquisition  to  his  fortune,  when 
he  turned  the  head  of  his  horse  into  one  of  those 
long  and  beautiful  lanes  common  in  the  Southern 
country.  Upon  either  side  of  this  lane  were  planted 
many  tall  poplar  trees,  which  stood  stately  and  erect 
like  silent  sentinels.  Up  this  beautiful  avenue  they 
rode  until  the  end  was  reached,  when  they  came  in 
sight  of  one  of  those  old  but  substantial  stone  houses, 
partly  concealed  by  the  thick  foliage  of  creeping  vines 
that  grew  around  it.  The  judge  rode  around  the  house 
to  the  rear,  where  numerous  out-houses  and  stables 
built  of  the  same  substantial  material  were  located. 
Having  reached  the  gate  which  separated  the  stable- 
yard  from  a  garden  laid  out  in  beautiful  flower  plots, 
where  the  poppy  and  chrysanthemum  grew  in  pro- 
fusion, he  dismounted  from  his  horse,  bade  William 
follow  his  example,  and  directed  him  to  remain  there 
with  the  horses.  He  then  wal  ked  up  to  the  rear  door 
of  the  mansion,  and,  without  so  much  as  lifting  the 
large  brass  knocker  which  hung  upon  the  panel  of 
the  door,  entered.  He  was  met,  upon  entering  the 
house,  by  a  matronly-looking  lady  dressed  in  cap  and 
gown,  and  who  addressed  him  as  Jere. 

[171] 


172  BOXD    AND    FKEE. 

The  reception  accorded  him  was  not  a  warm  one. 
The  lady  bowed  somewhat  stiffly,  as  she  inquired,  in 
rather  a  surprised  air:  "  Why,  Jere,  what  brings  you 
here  ? '? 

The  judge  did  not  appear  to  like  the  inquisitive  - 
ness  of  the  lady,  and,  without  answering  her  ques- 
tion, said :  "  Send  a  servant  to  show  my  man  where 
to  put  the  horses." 

"  Your  man,  Jere  !  What  man?  '; 

"  My  black  man.  You  don't  suppose  I  am  such  a 
beggar  that  I  cannot  afford  a  servant,  do  you  ?  " 

To  this  rather  discourteous  remark,  the  lady  made 
no  reply,  but  rang  the  bell,  summoning  a  servant, 
and  directed  him  to  attend  to  the  judge's  orders. 

The  lady  who  had  just  received  the  judge,  in  a  man- 
ner evincing  that  she  had  no  great  affection  for  him, 
was  the  Widow  Dean,  whose  acquaintance  the  reader 
will  now  have  an  opportunity  to  form  more  closely. 
The  Widow  Dean  was  Judge  Coleman's  only  surviv- 
ing relative,  his  sister.  She  was  the  relict  of  Colonel 
Woodson  Dean,  who  won  distinction  and  shoulder- 
straps  in  the  Mexican  war.  Returning  home,  he  ap- 
plied himself  to  the  cultivation  of  tobacco  and  the 
enthrallment  of  his  fellow-man.  After  spending  a 
life  in  extravagance  and  debauchery,  he  died,  leaving 
a  widow  almost  penniless,  but  who  remained  faithful 
to  his  memory.  The  Widow  Dean  had  never  admired 
her  brother's  reckless  manner  of  living ;  besides,  he 
had  so  imposed  upon  her  generosity  as  almost  to  im- 
poverish her.  He  had  obtained  a  considerable  amount 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  173 

of  money,  which  he  never  returned  her.  While  Judge 
Coleman's  sister  always  extended  the  hospitality  of 
her  home  to  her  vagabond  brother,  she  never  could 
meet  him  without  reproving  him,  or  lecturing  him 
upon  his  extravagant  ways.  The  judge,  in  view  of 
this  fact,  was  not  a  frequent  visitor  at  his  sister's 
house,  but  being  now  burdened  with  a  kind  of  white 
elephant,  in  the  form  of  a  slave,  for  whom  he  had  no 
use,  except  to  convert  into  money,  he  determined, 
upon  hearing  of  the  runaway  of  the  widow's  Jim, 
to  present  her  with  another  trusty  servant,  providing 
a  few  hundred  dollars  were  paid  in  cash,  a  balance  of 
a  few  hundred  more  forthcoming  when  needed. 

The  Widow  Dean  entered  the  large  and  comfort- 
able parlor,  closely  followed  by  her  brother.  She 
seated  herself  before  one  of  those  old-fashioned  fire- 
places in  which  a  bright  fire  was  burning.  The  room 
and  the  furniture  were  in  keeping  with  the  exterior 
appearance  of  the  house ;  every  piece  of  furniture 
was  arranged  with  the  utmost  care,  the  pictures,  the 
ornaments,  everything  about  the  room  showed  evi- 
dence of  the  taste  and  refinement  of  its  owner.  There 
was  a  striking  contrast  between  the  brother  and  sister 
as  they  sat  in  their  respective  positions.  The  Widow 
Dean  was  a  very  independent  woman  ;  having  teen 
left  almost  penniless  by  her  late  husband,  she  grasped 
the  management  of  her  affairs  like  a  woman  of  mettle, 
and  out  of  a  much  encumbered  estate,  after  clearing 
off  mortgages,  she  improved,  repaired,  and  generally 
increased  the  value  of  everything  left  her.  It  is  true 


174  BOND   AND    FREE. 

she  had  enjoyed  a  small  income  from  the  estate  of 
her  father,  but  her  brother,  who  had  been  executor, 
being  her  senior  by  several  years,  had  not  taken  the 
pains  or  care  to  protect  either  his  sister's  or  his  own 
interest,  but  yielding  to  his  political  ambition,  he  had 
sacrificed  that  which  was  his  own,  as  well  as  that 
which  he  held  in  trust,  to  satiate  a  desire  of  which, 
after  experiencing,  he  soon  grew  weary. 

The  Widow  Dean's  countenance  bore  the  traces  of 
beauty  and  refinement.  Her  early  days  had  been 
spent  in  luxury.  Her  beauty  had  brought  to  her 
feet  many  admirers  who  worshipped  her  as  a  god- 
dess. She  was  naturally  haughty,  but  her  quick  and 
intelligent  mind  saved  her  from  being  termed  austere. 
Unlike  most  Southern  women,  she  had  a  heart  over- 
flowing with  sympathy  and  kindness.  She  owned  but 
very  few  slaves,  and  these  few  were  indulged  to  an 
extent  that  made  their  lot  not  an  unpleasant  one. 
She  never  allowed  any  of  her  servants  to  be  whip- 
ped, and  when  they  were  recalcitrant,  she  would  call 
them  in  to  her,  and  gently  reprimand  them.  She  was 
never  known  to  sell  or  buy  a  servant.  Jim,  who  so 
unceremoniously  left  her  for  greater  freedom,  had 
been  left  to  her  by  her  late  husband,  and  she  had 
raised  him  almost  from  the  cradle.  This  is  why  she 
parted  with  him  with  such  reluctance,  and  offered  so 
heavy  a  reward  for  his  return.  Had  Jim  been  cap- 
tured and  returned  to  her,  she  would  simply  have 
reprimanded  him,  and  trusted  him  as  implicitly  as 
she  had  formerly. 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  175 

Her  views  upon  the  right  of  one  human  being  to 
own  another  possessed  the  peculiarly  strange  like- 
ness to  certain  charitable  Christains,  "whose  cloak 
of  charity  stretches  so  far  that  it  becomes  rather  thin." 
She  may  not  have  believed  that  slavery  was  right 
and  just ;  she  may  have  thought  it  cruel  and  wicked 
to  treat  humanity  like  dumb  brutes,  but  then  this 
humanity  was  black,  and  the  law  of  the  land,  as  well 
as  precedent,  decreed  that  white  should  rule  and  black 
be  ruled.  So,  with  the  same  kindly  feeling  that  a 
good  master  has  for  his  dog,  did  the  Widow  Dean 
care  for  her  servants.  They  were  well  fed,  well 
dressed,  and  generally  well  treated.  When  Jim  left 
her,  she  thought  him  very  ungrateful,  and  felt  cer- 
tain that  he  would  never  be  able  to  get  along.  She 
gave  but  little  thought  as  to  his  motive  for  leaving  a 
home  so  good  and  a  mistress  so  kind,  and  attributed 
his  running  away  to  the  influence  of  evil  companions. 
When  her  brother  came  to  her  at  this  time,  she  had 
not  thought  of  adding  to  her  household  by  the  pur- 
chase of  another  servant,  for  she  was  too  much  cha 
grined  at  Jim's  running  away.  The  judge  had  often 
prevailed  upon  her  to  increase  the  number  of  ser- 
vants about  the  place,  but  she  had  persistently  refused 
to  listen  to,  or  heed,  his  advice,  which  seemed  to  her 
to  be  followed  at  all  times  by  misfortune.  She  had 
never  taken  her  brother's  advice  that  it  did  not  prove 
abortive ;  consequently,  she  had  schooled  herself  so 
in  business  that  she  managed  her  own  affairs  quite 
ably. 


176  BOND   AND    FKEE. 

The  judge,  as  we  have  said,  was  not  a  frequent 
visitor  at  his  sister's  house ;  and  his  business  here  at 
this  time  was  to  leave  the  man  whom  he  had  won  from 
his  friend,  and  take  his  value  in  cash,  this  being  far 
more  serviceable  and  less  troublesome  to  him  than 
having  a  slave  traveling  around  the  country  with 
him.  He  always  avoided  a  controversy  with  his  sis- 
ter when  he  could,  for  he  disliked  her  to  discourse 
upon  the  evil  of  his  ways,  for  which  ways  he  con- 
sidered himself  alone  responsible.  He  did  not  like 
any  interference  with  the  manner  in  which  he  saw  fit 
to  pass  his  life.  He  knew  well  the  disposition  of 
his  sister ;  he  knew  her  weaknesses  and  the  bent  of 
her  sympathy ;  and  he  knew  that,  if  he  wanted  to 
win  his  object,  he  must  play  the  penitent,  whether  in 
earnest  or  not — not  that  this  would  be  anything  new 
for  him  to  play.  He  had  often  resorted  to  the  same 
expedient,  to  obtain  loan  after  loan  and  favor  upon 
favor  from  his  sister. 

Far  be  it  from  my  intention,  dear  reader,  to  lead 
you  to  the  impression  that  Judge  Jere  Coleman  was 
a  dependent  upon  his  sister's  bounty.  He  was  too 
proud  a  man  for  that;  his  noble  and  proud  spirit 
would  not  permit  him  to  do  anything  so  unmanly 
and  base.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  judge 
was  a  politician,  and  could  view  matters  in  a  light 
far  different  from  other  men.  Favors  bestowed  were 
often  considered  in  the  light  of  honors.  While  the 
judge  scorned  the  idea  of  being  a  dependent,  he  found 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  177 

no  inconsistency  in  accepting  a  bounty  which  was 
only  compensated  for  in  promises. 

They  were  now  sitting  facing  one  another,  the 
widow  in  a  large,  roomy  chair,  with  her  face  shaded 
from  the  sun,  which  penetrated  the  rich  damask  cur- 
tains that  adorned  the  window.  The  soft  light  fell 
upon  her  well-modeled  face,  and  brightened  the  silver 
locks  of  hair,  which  hung  in  crisp  curls  from  beneath 
the  rich,  old  lace  cap  she  wore.  The  judge  sat  near 
the  fire-place,  occupying  the  chair  which  his  deceased 
brother-in-law  had  always  used,  and  which  always 
stood  in  that  particular  spot.  He  began  the  conver- 
sation by  saying : 

"  Matilda,  it  has  been  some  time  since  I  visited 
you,,  and  I  think  you  could  afford  to  treat  me  with  a 
little  more  civility."  He  arose  from  his  seat  and 
walked  over  to  her.  With  an  attempt  at  affection, 
he  placed  his  arms  around  her  and  continued :  "  Why, 
my  dear  sister,  I  believe  you  would  give  your  negro, 
Jim,  a  more  hearty  welcome,  should  he  enter  the 
door  there,  than  you  have  me,  your  own  dear 
brother." 

"Perhaps  I  would,"  said  his  sister,  "considering 
that  Jim,  being  my  slave  instead  of  my  brother,  has 
given  me  far  less  worriment  than  you  have." 

"Well,"  said  the  judge  with  a  sigh,  "I  shall  not 
worry  you  any  more.  I  have  just  one  favor  to  ask; 
if  it  be  granted,  when  we  part  this  time,  it  will,  per- 
haps, be  forever.  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  my  con- 
tinued absence  will  be  pleasing  to  you.  But  to  the 


178  BOND    AND    FREE. 

point :  I  want  to  leave  with  you  the  man  that  I  have. 
He  is  a  good  servant,  and  useful  at  anything  you 
may  see  fit  to  put  him." 

"  Where  do  you  intend  to  go,  Jere,  and  w,hy  do 
you  suppose  I  shall  be  pleased  at  your  departure? 
Is  not  my  door  always  open  to  you?  Are  you  not 
always  welcome  here — yes,  welcome  to  remain  here 
with  your  servant  as  long  as  you  will  ?  Oh  !  if  you 
would  but  stop  this  roving  about  from  place  to 
place,"  and  the  tears  began  to  steal  down  her  cheeks. 

"At  it  again,"  thought  the  judge,  but  he  did  not 
lose  patience ;  he  continued  to  speak  kindly, — "  Ma- 
tilda, I  could  not  be  so  dependent  upon  you;  I  could 
never  permit  myself  to  accept  such  kindness  as  you 
offer,  without  making  you  some  adequate  return. 
No;  I  should  rather  you  would  accept  from  your 
brother  the  gift  of  this  boy,  as  a  slight  return  for  the 
many  favors  you  have  done  me." 

"  I  do  not  want  the  man ;  I  do  not  want  any  more 
servants  about  the  place,  especially  any  strange  ones. 
He  might  put  all  sorts  of  mischief  into  the  others 
heads,  and  give  me  much  trouble  I  do  not  care  to 
have.  If  you  will  remain  and  take  the  responsibility 
of  him  yourself.  I  shall  be  ever  so  happy  to  have 
you ;  but,  Jere,  my  dear  brother,  where  did  you  get 
this  man  ?  " 

Judge  Coleman  looked  at  his  sister  with  an  inquir- 
ing glance.  He  had  expected  this  question,  yet  he  was 
not  prepared  with  an  answer ;  nor  did  he  deem  it  either 
prudent  or  advisable  to  tell  her  just  where  the  man 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  179 

came  from,  yet  he  knew  that  if  he  did  not,  there  was 
a  possibility  of  the  man's  enlightening  her  himself. 
"  What  does  it  matter,  Sis  (this  appellation  was  used 
by  the  judge  when  falling  on  familiar  terms  with  his 
sister),  whence  he  came  ?  He  is  mine.  I  bought  him, 
and  paid  for  him,  and  if  you  won't  accept  him,  then 
let  me  leave  him  with  you  until  I  make  arrangements 
elsewhere." 

Mrs.  Dean  was  determined  not  to  have  any  strange 
servants  mingled  with  hers.  She  did  not  doubt  that 
her  brother  was  truthful  in  his  statements,  but  she 
could  not  understand  how  he  came  in  possession  of 
the  means  to  spend  upon  such  a  luxury  as  a  servant. 
She  knew  that  his  small  income  did  not  admit  of  it,  nor 
did  his  former  inclinations.  She  was  puzzled  to  know 
his  real  object  in  being  so  very  desirous  to  leave  the 
man  with  her,  so  she  remained  obdurate ;  and  her  un- 
yielding disposition  caused  her  brother  to  lose  patience 
and  temper. 

"  Then  you  will  not  accept  him  as  a  gift,  nor  permit 
him  to  remain  here  on  the  place  unless  I  consent  to 
remain  ?  That  I  do  not  see  fit  to  do,  and  to-morrow, 
my  dear,  kind  sister,"  said  the  judge  sarcastically,  "  I 
shall  bid  you  farewell." 

uAs  you  will,  Jere.  You  know  you  always  did  have 
your  own  way,"  and  Mrs.  Dean  arose  from  her  seat, 
and  walked  toward  the  window  which  opened  into  the 
garden  ;  she  stopped,  and,  turning,  faced  her  brother, 
who  saw  tears  standing  in  her  eyes.  She  exclaimed, — 
"  Oh,  Jere,  why  do  you  give  me  so  much  pain !  Why 


180  BOND    AND    FREE. 

speak  so  heartlessly  !  Hemain  herewith  me,  but  send 
the  man  away.  We  don't  need  him,  and  we  can  live 
so  happy,  and  be  so  contented." 

The  judge's  face  lost  much  of  its  austerity  at  these 
words,  and  a  smile  played  around  the  corners  of  his 
mouth.  The  suggestion  of  his  sister  was  the  very 
thing — why  not  remain  with  her  ?  He  could  sell  Wil 
liam,  get  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  dollars  for  him, 
and  give  himself  up  to  ease  and  comfort  under  the 
hospitality  of  his  sister's  roof.  "As  you  insist  upon 
my  remaining,  I  shall  do  so.  I  do  this,  Sis,  because 
of  my  love  for  you.  You  have  been  a  kind,  indul- 
gent sister,  and  I  appreciate  your  kindness.  I  will 
send  the  man  away  the  first  opportunity  I  have,  and 
devote  rny  time  to  your  happiness." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  Jere !  This  makes  me, 
indeed,  happy ;  and  now  that  you  so  cheerfully  give 
up  your  desire  to  rove  about,  I  feel  that  you  do  love 
me." 

While  this  conversation  was  taking  place  in  the 
great  house,  William  had  put  the  horses  away,  and 
had  been  shown  to  the  servants'  quarters.  Being  a 
stranger  upon  the  place,  he  soon  had  quite  an  audi- 
ence about  him,  relating  his  recent  separation  from 
his  wife  and  child.  Not  a  moment  or  a  second  since 
the  cruel  separation  had  they  escaped  his  thoughts. 
Imagine  that  father's  feelings,  that  husband's  feelings  ! 

If  we  could  suppose  that  those  men  and  women  of 
bondage,  when  separated  from  those  they  so  dearly 
loved,  became,  in  a  short  time,  entirely  indifferent  to, 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  181 

and  forgetful  of,  those  left  behind,  we  could  very 
readily  form  the  same  conclusion  that  Jonathan  Max- 
well and  his  wife  formed.  But  can  this  be  supposed? 
Is  the  human  heart,  whether  within  the  bosom  of  a 
bondman  or  a  freeman,  senseless  to  those  pulsations 
of  nature,  susceptible  to  love  or  hatred,  misery  or 
happiness  ?  Has  nature  provided  humanity  with  such 
control  over  its  forces  that  we  can  dismiss  at  will, 
regardless  of  all  our  surroundings,  the  things  upon 
which  our  hopes,  our  very  existence  seems  to  depend  ? 
Can  we,  because  of  a  forced  change  in  circumstances 
and  surroundings,  put  aside  and  consign  to  oblivion 
the  cherished  hopes  of  life?  More  likely  is  the 
human  heart  to  dwell,  to  linger,  to  cling  with  perti- 
nacity and  obstinacy  to  that  which  it  is  compelled  to 
relinquish.  The  more  painful  the  separation,  the 
harder  is  it  to  forget.  The  very  heart-strings  of  Wil- 
liam had  been  torn  asunder  by  this  separation  from 
his  wife  and  child. 

We  have  spoken  of  his  devotion  to  them,  of  the 
pride  he  took  in  his  only  child;  and  when  he  fol- 
lowed his  new  master,  as  he  believed,  into  a  deeper 
and  more  relentless  servitude,  the  bitterest  and  most 
acute  pains  shot  through  his  bosom.  There  was  no 
change,  no  treatment,  however  good,  that  could  miti- 
gate the  cruelty  of  this  separation ;  and  as  he  told 
those  around  him,  with  tears  streaming  from  his  eyes, 
of  the  beautiful  wife  and  the  loving  child  he  had  been 
taken  from,  perhaps  for  ever,  he  was  indeed  an  ob- 
ject of  commiseration.  The  motley  group  of  hearers 


182  BOND    AND    FREE. 

that  surrounded  him  could  do  nothing  but  listen  with 
saddened  hearts,  and  extend  their  sympathies.  What 
an  excellent  balm  to  heal  the  wounds  of  a  bleeding 
heart ! 

William  was  assigned  to  duty  about  the  house, 
and  he  went  at  his  work  with  a  drooping  head  and 
heavy  heart.  The  Widow  Dean  was  perfectly  fa- 
miliar with  the  habits  of  her  servants,  for  she  was  an 
unusually  kind  mistress,  and  made  it  an  express 
duty  to  inquire  into  the  habits  of  those  about  her. 
The  judge  had  now  been  absent  some  time,  attending 
a  hunt,  and  while  she  sat  alone  at  the  table,  noticed 
that  William  did  not  move  about  with  that  alacrity 
she  was  accustomed  to  see  in  her  servants.  She  said 
to  him  one  day:  "  William,  you  never  seem  to  be  in 
a  pleasant  humor.  Don't  you  like  your  new  home  ?  " 

William's  breast  began  to  heave  with  emotion  ;  he 
choked  down  a  sob,  and  answered :  "  Yes,  missa ;  I 
am  pleased  with  my  new  home,  and  you  are  very 
kind." 

"  What,  then,  gives  you  so  sad  an  appearance  ?  You 
must  brighten  up  and  move  about  with  more  spirit." 

"Yes,  missa;  I'll  try,"  and  as  he  said  this,  he 
turned  from  the  widow  and  brushed  a  tear  from  his 
dark  brown  cheek.  Mrs.  Dean  noticed  this,  and  was 
somewhat  surprised.  She  had  not  intended  to  say 
any  more,  but  seeing  the  man's  emotion,  she  ques- 
tioned him  further.  William  talked  with  much  re- 
luctance, as  he  was  under  the  impression  that  Judge 
Coleman  had  bought  him  expressly  for  his  sister,  and 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  183 

judging  all  white  people  to  be  alike  as  far  as  their 
servants  were  concerned,  he  was  afraid  of  adding  to 
his  distress  by  finding  fault  with  his  position.  Be- 
sides, he  had  no  idea,  when  Mrs.  Dean  asked  him 
the  questions  she  did,  that  it  was  done  because  of  any 
sympathy  she  may  have  had  for  him.  Like  many 
other  slaves,  he  did  not  believe  that  white  people 
ever  sympathized  with  them  in  their  woes,  or,  indeed, 
thought  they  had  any  woes.  In  place,  then,  of  being 
candid  and  out-spoken  with  Mrs.  Dean,  he  endeavored 
to  conceal  the  true  cause  of  his  trouble  and  evade 
giving  her  the  information  she  sought. 

When  in  great  distress  and  sorrow,  the  heart  seeks 
consolation  in  whatever  way  it  is  possible  to  be  found. 
It  is  truly  a  relief  to  pour  out  its  inmost  feelings  to  one 
in  whom  confidence  may  be  placed,  and  from  whom 
may  be  gained  a  word  of  comfort.  William's  heart 
was  overflowing  with  the  bitterest  of  sorrow,  and 
could  he  have  entertained  the  slightest  hope  of  re- 
ceiving a  scintilla  of  sympathy  from  his  mistress,  he 
would  have,  without  hesitancy,  told  her  all.  He 
would  have  entreated  her  to  return  him  to  his  wife 
and  child — yes,  he  would  have  appealed  to  her 
womanly  heart  in  behalf  of  those  who  were  as  dear 
to  him  as  his  own  life.  He  would  have  asked  that 
he  might  be  permitted  to  see  them  once  more,  to  en- 
fold them  in  his  arms  and  press  them  to  his  bosom. 
But,  alas  !  he  feared  that  any  appeal  to  this  woman 
would  be  useless;  he  thought  that  Mrs.  Dean  was 
now  his  mistress  and  owner,  and  he  knew,  or  thought 


184  BOND    AND    FREE. 

he  knew,  that  to  tell  her  he  had  been  ruthlessly  and 
cruelly  separated  from  his  wife  and  child  would  but 
tend  to  place  him  under  close  surveillance,  thereby 
preventing  his  intended  escape. 

In  ninety  cases  out  of  a  hundred,  this  would  have 
been  the  result  had  he  dared  to  present  such  a  pro- 
position to  his  mistress  or  master ;  but  could  William 
have  understood  that  the  mistress  to  whom  he  now 
owed  obedience  differed  materially  from  the  average 
Southern  woman,  he  would  have  made  his  appeal. 
He  would  have  thrown  into  it  all  of  the  eloquence 
possible  for  him  to  summon ;  he  would  have  en- 
deavored to  touch  some  chord  of  sympathy,  thus  se- 
curing a  kind  word  or  a  promise.  But  no ;  he  re- 
frained from  giving  expression  to  his  thoughts,  and 
Mrs.  Dean,  who  would  have  commanded  her  brother 
to  return  the  man  to  his  master,  was  left  to  think  that 
William  was  taciturn  and  sullen,  and,  consequently, 
not  a  fit  one  to  be  about  her  good-natured  servants. 
Immediately  upon  her  brother's  return,  she  approached 
him  concerning  William,  insisting  that  he  should  be 
taken  away  from  the  place. 

The  judge  had  some  reluctance  about  selling  Wil- 
liam to  the  traders,  and  yet  he  realized  that  some  dis- 
position must  be  made  of  him,  profitable,  of  course, 
to  himself.  Finding  that  his  sister  not  only  objected 
to  advancing  him  any  money  on  the  man,  but  posi- 
tively insisted  on  his  removal,  he  decided  to  sell  him 
to  the  first  "nigger-trader"  that  came  along. 

This  species  of  genus  homo  was  very  numerous,  as 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER  185 

a  matter  of  course,  throughout  the  South,  negro- 
trading  being  far  more  profitable  than  dealing  in 
horses  and  cattle.  The  two  were,  however,  closely 
allied  in  many  cases,  for  a  trader  would  often  come 
from  the  far  South  with  a  herd  of  cattle,  and  return 
with  a  goodly  supply  of  negroes,  consisting  of  men, 
women,  and  children.  These  traders  were  adepts  at 
the  business,  and  knew  just  what  kind  of  negroes  the 
market  required.  They  attended  all  the  slave-mar- 
kets and  private  sales,  and  bought  wherever  they 
could  get  a  bargain,  realizing  on  their  investments 
just  as  a  man  does  in  any  ordinary  business  transac- 
tion. In  addition  to  their  business  of  buying  and 
selling  these  slaves,  they  indulged  in  stealing  and 
kidnapping  free  negroes.  This  was  a  little  risky,  but 
very  remunerative,  and,  consequently,  popular.  The 
negro-trader  was  not  looked  upon  as  the  best  type  of 
a  citizen ;  he  was  not  quite  so  highly  regarded  as  a 
wealthy  planter,  who  owned  several  hundred  slaves, 
and  who  bought,  traded,  or  sold  at  will.  He  was 
viewed  rather  with  suspicion  and  mistrust,  and 
thought  capable  of  doing  many  things  that  a  respect- 
able man  would  scorn.  Usually,  he  commanded 
large  sums  of  money,  had  a  great  fondness  for 
whisky,  tobacco,  and  poker.  He  could  be  seen  upon 
steamboats,  at  hotels,  around  jails,  and  at  slave-pens, 
being  easily  distinguished  from  other  men  by  his 
broad-rimmed  hat,  soiled  shirt,  scrubby  beard,  swag- 
gering gait,  and  the  bull-whip  invariably  under  his 
arm.  His  keen  eye  took  in  at  a  glance  every  defect 


186  BOND   AND   FREE. 

about  the  man  or  the  woman  he  wished  to  purchase. 
In  order  to  test  the  abilities  and  qualities  of  an  in- 
tended purchase,  a  male  was  compelled  to  bend  his 
body,'  jump,  show  his  teeth,  and  bring  his  muscles 
generally  into  play.  A  female  was  subjected  to  much 
the  same,  undergoing  many  cruel  indignities,  utterly 
regardless  of  her  sex. 

Being  a  class  apparently  created  without  a  grain  of 
human  feeling,  they  (the  traders)  would  take  a 
mother  from  her  babe,  a  husband  from  a  wife,  or 
vice  versa.  Tears  never  appealed  to  their  sympathies, 
for  they  were  devoid  of  any.  All  appeals  were  an- 
swered by  the  crack  of  the  whip.  They  would  go 
through  the  country  and  purchase  as  many  slaves  as 
their  funds  would  permit,  and  after  depositing  them 
safely  in  jail,  would  collect  them  and  start  them  in 
droves  for  the  far  South,  where  good  prices  were 
given  by  the  owners  of  large  rice  and  cotton  planta- 
tions for  good,  able-bodied  men  and  women.  While 
making  these  long  excursions,  women  and  children 
were  placed  in  wagons  and  the  men  were  shackled 
together  and  driven  from  sunrise  to  sunset.  From 
three  to  four  white  men  generally  drove  herds  of  a 
hundred  or  more,  and,  at  night,  when  they  encamped, 
one  or  two  watched  while  the  others  slept.  These 
poor  creatures,  over  whom  they  watched,  were  as 
completely  cowed  by  the'  presence  of  one  or  two 
men  as  they  would  have  been  by  an  army.  They 
might  have  rebelled,  it  is  true,  but  such  an  uprising 
would  have  amounted  comparatively  to  nothing :  for 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  187 

there  was  the  strong  arm  of  the  law,  a  sure  and  ready 
protection  for  all  whites  and  a  constant  menace  to 
these  abused  people,  making  them  powerless,  no 
matter  what  their  number,  to  ameliorate  their  forlorn 
condition. 

A  better  representative  of  the  Southern  "  nigger- 
trader  "  than  Jasson  Lillie  could  not  be  found.  He 
made  periodical  visits  through  the  section  of  country 
in  which  the  Widow  Dean  resided.  He  had  grown 
up  from  youth  in  the  business,  and  as  he  entered  in- 
to manhood,  had  divested  himself  of  conscience, 
honor,  and  respectability ;  so  Jass  Lillie  was  minus 
none  of  the  qualities  or  knowledge  requisite  for  a 
most  successful  "nigger- trader."  He  had  probably 
reached  his  fortieth  year,  but  looked  much  older,  his 
hair  being  grizzly.  His  low  forehead,  broad  mouth, 
and  bull-like  neck  bespoke  the  man.  He  could 
round  off  an  oath  and  deal  cards  with  an  avidity  that 
gave  him  an  enviable  reputation  among  his  compan- 
ions, while  his  judgment  as  to  the  value,  soundness, 
and  salable  qualities  of  a  negro  was  unerring.  He 
never  took  any  risks  when  once  he  put  his  money  in 
a  man  or  woman,  and  from  the  time  he  bought  until 
he  sold,  security  and  vigilance  were  his  watch  words. 
Merciless  and  brutal  in  the  extreme,  he  thought  no 
more  of  throwing  his  big  bull-whip  upon  the  back 
of  a  negro  man  or  woman,  than  upon  the  back  of  a 
steer. 

When  he  made  his  periodical  trip,  he  spent  but 
little  time  on  a  bargain,  for  time  was  money  to  Mr. 


188  BOND   AND    FREE. 

Lillie.  He  was  sure  at  all  times  to  get  the  best  of  a 
bargain.  Jass  Lillie's  time  for  passing  through  certain 
sections  of  the  country  was  as  well  known  to  the  slaves 
as  to  the  masters,  and  every  slave  in  that  particular 
vicinity  would  grow  restless  and  frightened  when  the 
time  approached  for  his  appearance.  Many  of  them 
would  conceal  themselves,  fearing  that  Lillie  would 
see  them  and  offer  to  purchase  them  from  their 
masters.  To  the  slaves  he  was  a  dreaded  and  unwel- 
come visitor ;  while  to  many  of  the  masters  he  was 
ever  welcome.  It  had  been  some  six  months  since 
Jass  Lillie  had  visited  the  section  of  country  where 
the  Widow  Dean  lived,  and  it  had  been  more  than 
that  many  years  since  he  had  stopped  within  her 
domains,  at  which  time  he  was  given  to  understand 
by  the  Widow  Dean  that  there  was  no  opening  for 
his  business  upon  her  premises.  Mr.  Lillie  rounded 
off  a  few  selected  oaths  at  the  time  lost,  and  never 
lost  any  more  by  stopping  there. 

He  was  now  daily  expected,  and  the  only  slaves 
for  miles  that  were  not  disturbed  by  this  piece  of  in- 
telligence were  the  Widow  Dean's.  Her  brother 
shared  in  the  general  expectation  proceeding  Lillie's 
arrival ;  for  he  had  decided  to  dispose  of  William, 
and  Jass  Lillie  was  the  man  to  whom  he  would  sell 
him.  The  judge  and  Jass  were  not  strangers  to  each 
other,  as  they  had  met  before  on  similar  business — the 
former  having  disposed  of  much  of  his  own  property 
to  this  speculator  in  human  beings,  and  he  knew  just 
how  to  drive  a  bargain  with  him. 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  189 

The  sun  crept  up  from  over  the  eastern  hills,  and 
bathed  the  rich  verdure  in  its  softest  rays.  The  dew 
upon  the  grass  and  the  flowers  seemed  to  sparkle  and 
laugh  with  joy  as  it  was  kissed  with  the  golden  flood 
of  light.  The  hyacinths  and  pinks  looked  particu- 
larly bright  this  morning,  as  they  hung  in  profusion 
about  the  Widow  Dean's  manor-house.  The  ivy  and 
creeping  smilax  glistened  in  the  sunshine,  creep- 
ing up  and  entwining  themselves  in  and  out  of  the 
crevices  of  the  old  stone  walls.  It  was  one  of  those 
beautiful  spring  mornings  when  all  nature  seemed 
happy,  bright,  and  smiling.  The  water  in  the  little 
brooklet  dashed  along  as  though  keeping  time  to  the 
music  of  the  birds  that  flitted  from  tree  to  tree  with 
their  merry  chirping ;  and  it  moved  on  in  its  course, 
only  intercepted  by  some  huge,  moss-covered  rock, 
which  would  break  it  into  a  thousand  little  sparkling 
jets,  glistening  and  shining  in  the  sunlight  like  bright 
crystal  gems.  The  horn  of  the  overseer,  as  he  sum- 
moned the  field-hands  to  work,  sounded  upon  the 
still,  clear  air,  then  died  away  and  lost  itself  in  the 
thick  foliage  of  the  mountain.  Every  living  thing 
seemed  to  catch  new  life  and  inspiration  from  the 
sweet  morning  air.  The  old  slave,  turning  out  from 
his  quarters,  walked  with  unusual  suppleness  and  agil- 
ity, while  the  little  pickaninnies,  with  nappy  hair  and 
rolling  eyes,  sprang  out  from  the  little  whitewashed 
cabins  and  gamboled  about  in  the  dewy  grass  in  lieu 
of  a  bath. 

Judge  Coleman  arose  long  before  his  accustomed 


190  BOND  AND  FREE. 

hour,  stalked  oat  into  the  stable,  and  ordered  a  horse 
saddled.  The  order  being  obeyed,  he  mounted  his 
spirited  animal  and  wound  his  way  through  the  long 
line  of  stately  poplars,  whose  boughs  and  leaves  bent 
and  bowed  to  the  gentle  breeze,  as  if  in  salute  to  the 

early  rider.  He  rode  directly  to  the  town  of  E , 

stopped  his  horse  in  front  of  the  inn,  and  inquired  if 
Jass  Lillie  had  arrived.  He  was  informed  that  that 
individual  was  a  guest  at  the  hostelrie,  and  if  the 
gentleman  would  dismount,  his  horse  would  be  at- 
tended to  and  Mr.  Lillie  informed  of  his  presence. 
So  important  a  Southern  gentleman  as  Judge  Cole- 
man  was,  of  course,  widely  known,  and  as  Mr.  Kurtz- 
man,  the  landlord  of  the  Black  Horse  tavern,  made 
the  remark,  he  hailed  a  negro  servant  girl,  address- 
ing her  by  the  euphonious  cognomen  of  Alanthe. 

"  Tell  the  gentleman  in  the  room,  first  floor  front, 
that  Judge  Coleman,  ex-member  of  Congress,  wishes 
to  see  him.'' 

The  servant  girl,  who  might  have  been  taken  for 
a  boy  from  the  scarcity  of  hair  on  her  head,  and  the 
coat-like  garment  she  wore  reaching  down  to  her 
knees,  exposing-  a  pair  of  very  black  and  very  thin 
legs,  very  large  feet  whose  toes  stood  apart  with  per- 
fect individuality,  disappeared  from  the  bar-room  and 
office,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time,  returned,  say- 
ing: 

"  Glass  bitters.     Gemmen  says  gemmen  come  up." 

The  glass  of  bitters  was  ordered  by  Mr.  Lillie,  who 
had  not  yet  arisen,  as  an  eye-opener.  The  order  was 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  191 

filled,  and  the  judge  directed  to  follow  Alan  the. 
Leading  the  way,  the  servant  entered  the  room  and 
deposited  the  liquor  on  a  small  stand,  which  an- 
swered the  dual  purpose  of  washstand  and  center-ta- 
ble, and  immediately  disappeared,  closing  the  door 
with  a  bang. 

*'  Well-er,  well-er,  how  are  yer,  Coleman?"  said 

Mr.  Lillie,  as  he  raised  himself  up  in  bed  ;  "  d that 

nigger!  why  didn't  she  give  me  that  drink?  " 

"How  are  you,  Jass?"  said  the  judge,  paying  no 
attention  to  the  latter  remark.  u  I  didn't  know  you 
received  gentlemen  before  you  made  your  toilet.1' 

"  Well-er,  saves  time,  Coleman,  yer  know ;  talk 
while  dressin';  done  dressing  know  yer  business, 
ready  to  bargain.  Have  a  drink  ? ';  and  as  he  said 
this,  he  sprang  out  of  bed,  took  the  glass  from  the 
table,  and  drained  it  of  its  contents  at  one  gulp.  He 
then  proceeded  to  perform  his  toilet,  which  did  not 
take  long,  as  his  coat  and  boots  were  about  the  only 
articles  he  had  divested  himself  of. 

Mr.  Lillie,  as  we  have  said,  was  great  on  saving 
time.  He  saved  time  on  everything.  He  was  eco- 
nomical even  in  the  use  of  words,  endeavoring  to  ex- 
press himself  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  which  he 
cut  to  suit  his  style.  This  is  why  his  sentences  were 
so  jerky.  Judge  Coleman  watched  the  man  as  he 
performed  the  lightning  task  of  arranging  his  toilet. 

•'  Well-er,  what's  up,  Coleman?  Hain't  seen  you 
long  time.  Any  niggers,  men,  women,  old,  young  ? 
Want  good  stock,  er  no  sale.  How's  wider?  Clever 


192  BOND   AND    FREE. 

lady,  give  me  devil  once.  Never  stop  now.  No  use, 
only  time  lost."  Lillie  continued  to  jerk  out  his 
sentences  in  this  way  until  his  toilet  was  finished. 
Starting  toward  the  door,  he  said  to  the  judge :  "  Been 
to  breakfast?  Late  this  morning;  join  me."  The 
judge  thanked  him,  but  declined  the  invitation,  re- 
marking that  he  would  accompany  him  to  the  break- 
fast table,  which  he  did. 

Lillie,  to  save  time,  had  ordered  his  breakfast,  which 
was  set  before  him  in  a  very  short  time  after  he  was 
seated  at  the  table.  Judge  Coleman  seated  himself 
at  his  side,  and  while  Lillie  shoveled  the  food  into 
his  mouth,  employing  both  hands  and  knife  and  fork, 
the  judge  informed  him  that  he  had  a  negro  man  he 
wanted  to  sell,  and  asked  Lillie  whether  he  wanted 
to  buy  him. 

With  his  mouth  full  of  food,  Lillie  replied :  "  Buy 
him,  buy  him,  course.  Sound?  Healthy?  Under 
forty?  Ten  hundred,  sight  unseen.  Any  defects,  no 
sale." 

"  But  ten  hundred  ain't  enough,  Lillie  ;  I  paid  fif- 
teen for  him." 

"  Can't  help  it.  Market  slow,  demand  poor,  ex- 
pense clear  to  Georgia.  Bring  him  up,  may  do  bet- 
ter. Be  back  in  ten  days.  Nigger,  git  my  horse." 

The  last  remark  was  addressed  to  the  servant  of 
all  work,  Alanthe,  who  was  now  lazily  engaged,  with 
a  large  paper  brush,  in  keeping  the  flies  off  the  table. 

"Yes,  sah!"  was  the  reply,  as  she  bounded  from 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  193 

the  room,  turning  a  somersault  through  the  window, 
and  landing  on  the  portico. 

"All  right,"  said  the  judge,  "I  shall  arrange  so  as 
to  meet  you  here.  Good  day  !" 

"  Good  day  !  good  day  !"  said  Mr.  Lillie  "More'n 
one,  bring  'long.  Any  good-looking  gals?  Pay  good 
price.  ,Want  take  down  good  drove.  Business  dull, 
must  push  it.  Market  slow,  demand  poor." 

They  separated  at  the  tavern  door.  The  judge 
mounted  his  horse  and  rode  home.  In  a  short  time, 
Lillie  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  in  direction  of 

the  B market,  where  a  large  drove  of  cattle,  in 

charge  of  two  drivers,  had  preceded  him.  Here  he 
intended  to  make  his  first  purchase  of  negroes  prepara- 
tory to  his  return  trip. 

Judge  Coleman  reached  home  in  time  for  the  morn- 
ing meal,  with  his  appetite  well  sharpened  by  his 
early  morning  ride.  The  meal  was  eaten  in  silence, 
as  the  judge  said  nothing  to  his  sister  about  his  ad- 
venture. 

William  McCullar  was  one  of  a  great  number  of 
slaves  that  was  very  religious.  He  had  been  per- 
sistently praying  for  his  wife  and  child's  protection, 
little  thinking  that  they  were,  even  at  that  moment, 
fleeing  to  freedom.  He  had  been  taught  to  place  his 
trust  in  Providence,  and  a  way  would  be  shown  him 
out  of  his  suffering  condition.  This  was  the  only 
hope  that  buoyed  him  up ;  he  clung  to  it  as  a  dying 
man  to  a  straw.  Everything  around  him  seemed 
dark  and  foreboding.  Liberty  seemed  to  be  farther 

13 


194  BOND   AND    FREE. 

and  farther  away  from  his  reach.  The  hope  of  again 
seeing  his  beloved  wife  was  not  lost  entirely,  but  rit 
appeared  like  a  delusion,  though  he  still  prayed, 
trusted,  and  believed  a  way  would  open  up  to  him 
that  would  lead  him  out  of  bondage.  His  religious 
zeal  made  him  too  reliant.  He  waited  upon  some 
manifestation  of  the  power  of  Providence,  and  be- 
came entirely  passive  as  to  what  was  required  of 
him.  He  lost  sight  of  that  great  truth,  "God  helps 
those  who  help  themselves,''  and  continued  to  wait 
for  an  evidence  of  Godly  help.  He  was  courageous 
and  manly,  and  never  abandoned  his  intention  to  es- 
cape, but  his  lack  of  resolution  and  confidence  in 
himself  proved  a  fatal  blunder,  and  resulted  in  his 
being  taken  still  farther  from  a  free  land.  He  had 
no  knowledge,  or,  in  fact,  did  he  think  for  a  moment, 
that  the  wife  he  loved  so  dearly  was  bravely  strug- 
gling on  toward  freedom.  Had  William  McCullar 
been  in  possession  of  this  information,  he  would  have 
risked  his  life  to  reach  her;  the  fetters  of  slavery 
would  have  been  burst  asunder,  and  he  would  have 
made  a  desperate  effort  for  freedom.  As  it  was,  be- 
ing entirely  in  ignorance  of  their  escape,  and  partly 
in  doubt  of  the  advisability  of  attempting  to  escape, 
himself,  he  hesitated  too  long,  and,  as  I  have  said, 
was  borne  farther  away  from  wife  and  child  and  lib- 
erty. 

William  had  finished  serving  the  breakfast  for  his 
new  mistress  and  master,  and  had  seated  himself 
at  a  table  in  the  kitchen  to  eat  his  own.  The  break- 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  195 

fast  before  him  remained  untouched,  his  mind  being 
engrossed  with  other  things,  and  his  gaze  seemingly 
riveted  upon  the  beautiful  landscape,  as  viewed  from 
the  window  before  which  he  sat  The  cattle  on  the 
hills  were  lazily  browsing  away,  the  perfume  of  the 
rich  scented  clover  was  driven  by  a  gentle  breeze 
through  the  open  window,  and  spread  itself  through 
the  house  like  fragrant  incense. 

William  sat  there  motionless,  with  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  nothing  but  the  great  space  that  intervened  be- 
tween the  cloudless  skies  and  the  green  carpeted  earth. 
His  mind  was  with  his  wife  and  child,  and  all  the 
beauty  of  nature,  as  it  lay  stretched  out  before  him, 
was  as  nothing.  He  did  not  hear  the  heavy  tread  of 
Judge  Coleman,  as  he  entered  the  kitchen,  nor  did  he 
hear  himself  addressed  until  the  judge  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  said : 

u  William,  when  you  have  finished  your  breakfast, 
I  want  you  to  go  with  Uncle  Dick  to  the  Black  Horse 
tavern,  and  meet  me  there," 

"  Yes  sar ;  I'm  ready  now,"  said  William,  rising 
from  the  table. 

Uncle  Dick  had  already  received  his  orders,  and 
had  the  carriage  in  waiting,  as  well  as  the  judge's 
horse.  The  master  mounted  and  set  out  for  the 
tavern,  and  was  soon  followed  by  Uncle  Dick  and 
William. 

Uncle  Dick  was  one  of  the  oldest  servants  upon 
the  Dean  estate,  and  by  virtue  of  his  fidelity  to  his 
mistress's  interest,  he  was  installed  the  overseer  or 


196  BOND   AND    FREE. 

driver.  There  were  not  many  negroes  upon  the  place, 
as  we  have  said,  and  the  few  who  were  there  were, 
as  far  as  their  mistress  was  concerned,  well  treated, 
and  it  was  a  most  fortunate  thing  for  them,  with  such 
a  driver  as  Uncle  Dick,  that  they  had  so  kind  a  mis- 
tress. The  average  Southern  overseer  was  specially 
and  carefully  selected  for  his  cruelty  and  brutality. 
He  required  the  reputation  of  a  hard  driver  as  a  re- 
commendation to  entitle  him  to  employment  by  a 
large  planter  ;  he  had  to  have  combined  the  instincts 
of  a  blood  hound  and  a  perfect  knowledge  of  "  nig- 
gers "  ;  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  know  how  to  ob- 
tain plenty  of  work  from  half -fed  mortals,  and  to 
look  upon  a  slave,  not  as  a  human  creature,  but  as  a 
thing  to  be  driven  by  the  crack  of  the  whip,  and 
worked  until  quite  exhausted. 

They  were  selected  from  among  the  poorest  of 
poor  whites ;  and  the  exalted  position  of  overseer  and 
their  hatred  and  prejudice  of  a  black  man,  made  them 
fit  subjects  for  such  positions.  An  exception  was 
made  by  some  slave-holders,  who  were  far-sighted, 
by  selecting  from  among  their  negroes  an  overseer. 
Wherever  this  was  the  case,  the  slaves  were  made 
to  suffer,  if  possible,  greater  persecution  than  under 
a  white  man.  The  authority  given  them  over  their 
brethren,  and  their  great  anxiety  to  retain  it  by  pleas- 
ing their  masters,  led  them  to  extremes  in  their  treat- 
ment. They  had  better  opportunities  to  know  the 
habits  of  those  under  them  ;  they  knew  whenever  a 
man  or  woman  was  off  on  a  frolic,  and  if  one  lagged 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  197 

behind  while  working  in  the  field  next  day,  no  mercy 
was  shown,  nor  was  the  lash  spared.  White  men  were 
hard  drivers  and  cruel  overseers,  but  black  men  ex- 
ceeded them,  besides  being  very  deceptive  and  treach- 
erous. They  would  pry  into  the  secrets  of  the  poor 
slaves,  and  then  expose  them  to  their  masters. 

Uncle  Dick  was  one  of  this  class,  but  could  not  ex- 
ercise his  punishing  powers,  as  the  Widow  Dean  drew 
the  line  at  this  point.  But  lie  made  his  fellow-slaves 
suffer  every  hardship  he  could  inflict,  and  took  great 
pleasure  in  watching  them  and  conveying  news  to  his 
mistress.  He  had  been  instructed  to  conduct  Wil- 
liam safely  to  the  Black  Horse,  and  not  inform  him  of 
the  object.  The  commission  could  not  have  been  dele- 
gated to  one  more  faithful.  He  drove  the  horses  and 
kept  a  close  ej-e  on  William,  while  a  broad  smile 
occasionally  overspread  his  face.  He  knew  the  ob- 
ject of  taking  William  to  the  tavern,  as  the  time  for 
Jass  Lillie's  return  had  arrived. 

When  the  tavern  was  reached,  several  men,  women, 
and  children  were  seen  in  various  attitudes  of  ease, 
within  a  kind  of  inclosure  similar  to  a  cattle  stockade, 
while  two  men  of  rather  unprepossessing  appearance 
performed  guard  duty  over  them. 

On  the  front  porch  of  the  tavern,  Lillie  stood  with 
his  hands  hid  away  in  the  pockets  of  his  trousers,  roll- 
ing a  large  quid  of  tobacco  from  one  side  of  his  some- 
what capacious  mouth  to  the  other,  watching  William 
as  he  sprang  lightly  from  the  carriage.  Upon  alight- 
ing, William  walked  up  to  his  master  who  was  stand- 


198  BOND    AND    FREE. 

ing  by  Lillie's  side,  politely  touched  his  hat,  and 
awaited  orders. 

"  Well-er,  that's  the  nigger?"  said  Lillie,  nodding 
his  head  toward  William. 

"  That's  he,"  replied  the  judge,  "  and  a  better  one 
never  broke  bread."  This  was  said  in  a  very  low 
voice,  as  if  not  intended  for  William's  ears. 

"Boy,  boy,  come  here.  Open  yer  mouth,"  said 
Lillie.  ' 

William  obeyed,  and  Lillie  poked  his  dirty  fingers 
into  the  man's  mouth,  feeling  his  upper  and  lower 
jaw  teeth.  "  Bend  over.  Touch  the  ground.  Jump," 
and  as  he  said  this,  he  dexterously  swung  his  bull- 
whip  over  his  head,  and  made  it  crack  like  a  pistol 
shot 

William  sprang  some  two  feet  into  the  air,  and 
came  down  lightly  upon  his  toes.  Lillie  walked  to 
him,  roughly  felt  his  limbs,  and  watched  the  develop- 
ment of  his  muscles  as  he  worked  them.  Then  turn- 
ing to  the  judge  said : 

"Twelve hundred.     Aint  worth  d—  -  cent  more." 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  judge ;  "fifteen,  or  home  he  goes." 

"Fifteen!"  said  Lillie,  eyeing  the  judge  closely, 
"  Can't  stand  it ;  great  risk ;  market  slow ;  demand 
poor;  expense  great;  no  time  to  dicker;  thirteen 
and  half — no  more.  Mitchell,  git  them  ar  niggers 
ready.  Move  on."  The  last  remark  was  addressed 
to  one.of  the  drivers,  who  at  once  proceeded  to  arouse 
the  group  of  slaves  by  kicking  and  thumping  them, 
and  afterwards  telling  them  to  get  up. 


THE  JUDGE'S  SISTER.  199 

"  He  is  yours,"  said  the  judge,  turning  and  enter- 
ing the  tavern.  Lillie  called  up  one  of  his  men,  and 
said :  "  Put  that  ar  nigger  in  the  drove ;  buckle  him 
good;  don't  take  any  foolishness  off  him."  He  then 
followed  Judge  Coleman  into  the  tavern,  counted  out 
thirteen  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  handed  it  to  the 
judge,  taking  a  receipt  something  like  the  following : 

E ,  May  — ,  18—. 

JASSON  LILLIE  TO  JUDGE  J.  COLEMAN,  Dr. 

To  one  negro  man,  called  William,  five  feet  two  inches ;  dark- 
brown  color ;  good  features ;  compactly  built.  Sound  health 
guaranteed. 
$1,350  Received  Payment, 

J.  COLEMAN. 

Lillie  spelled  the  receipt  over,  placed  it  in  his  wal- 
let, and  said : 

"  Any  more  like  him,  Colerman,  bring  'em  along. 
Market  slow  ;  demand  poor;  but  buy  anyhow." 

The  drivers  now  busied  themselves  in  getting  the 
women  and  children  into  the  wagons  and  hand-cuff- 
ing the  men  together  in  pairs,  running  a  chain  along 
between  them.  William  was  hand-cuffed  to  a  burly, 
black  fellow.  The  front  part  of  the  chain  was  at- 
tached to  the  wagon,  the  drivers  mounted  their  horses, 
the  whips  cracked,  and  the  cavalcade  started  south- 
ward. William  McCullar's  heart  throbbed  with  pain 
as  he  now  realized  that  each  step  bore  him  farther 
from  his  wife  and  child  and  liberty. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE. 

It  was  well  into  the  night  when  Uncle  Joshua  drove 
away  from  the  Maxwell  estate  with  Purcey  and  Sallie 
Silvers  in  Mr.  Biggers'  wagon.  After  watching  them 
until  the  darkness  hid  them  from  view,  the  mother  re- 
turned to  the  house.  Elva  had  no  superstitious  fears, 
notwithstanding  her  great  confidence  in  the  power  to 
which  she  invariably  appealed  for  assistance.  Her 
belief  that  Providence  had  selected  her  to  aid  in  the 
escape  of  her  fellow-creatures  from  bondage  to  free- 
dom was  as  honest  as  any  belief  ever  entertained  in 
human  bosom.  This  idea  was  strengthened  from  the 
fact  that  none  whom  she  had  assisted  to  escape  had 
ever  been  captured  or  returned.  Now  that  her  own 
child  had  gone — she  whom  she  loved  with  the  tender- 
est  affection  of  a  mother — she  felt  that  no  sacrifice, 
however  great,  would  be  too  much  to  make  for  her 
protection.  She  was  now  to  act  a  part  which  must, 
eventually,  end  in  detection  ;  and  would,  in  all  proba- 
bility, lead  to  a  terrible  punishment — she  alone  to  be 
the  sufferer.  Her  mistress  and  master  must  be  kept 
in  ignorance  of  Purcey 's  departure  for  several  days, 
or,  at  least,  until  she  had  a  fair  opportunity  to  escape 
into  a  free  land.  Everything  now  rested  with  her ; 
she  summoned  all  of  her  determination  and  courage 

[200] 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  201 

and  put  in  operation  her  full  powers  of  deception. 
Usually  thoughtful  and  collected,  in  her  changed 
manner  she  seemed  somewhat  inclined  to  impulsive- 
ness. 

Entering  the  house,  she  carefully  fastened  the  door, 
and  crept  softly  through  the  rooms  and  halls,  until 
the  door  of  her  master's  room  was  reached.  Every- 
thing was  clothed  in  inky  darkness ;  not  a  sound  dis- 
turbed the  death -like  stillness,  except  the  regular 
breathing  of  the  sleepers  within  their  rooms. 

Through  all  of  that  great  house,  from  kitchen  to 
the  bed-room  of  her  master,  situated  in  the  extreme 
east  wing  of  the  house,  she  had  crept,  without  com- 
ing in  contact  with  a  single  piece  of  furniture  or  mak- 
ing a  misstep.  She  listened  at  the  door  for  a  moment, 
her  breath  coming  thick  and  fast.  Within  her  bosom 
a  fearful  conflict  was  passing.  She  placed  her  hand 
upon  the  door-knob,  and  withdrew  it  suddenly,  as  if 
something  had  stung  her ;  she  thrust  her  hand  into 
her  bosom  and  drew  forth  a  leather  sheath,  and 
drawing  out  the  shining  blade  of  a  knife,  she  again 
approached  the  door,  but  hesitated  Should  she  en- 
ter? Could  she  not,  with  one  stroke  of  that  weapon, 
rid  herself  of  the  man  that  held  her  and  her  children 
in  bondage  ?  Yet  this  would  not  release  the  fetters 
from  their  limbs.  But  then  Purcey  would  be  safe, 
and  what  would  it  then  matter  though  the  law  hold 
her? 

She  did  not  fear  death,  she  did  not  fear  the  cruelest 
punishment.  If  she  plunged  that  dagger  to  the  hilt 


202  BOND   AND    FREE. 

into  her  master's  bosom,  he  would  only  sleep  on,  never 
to  awake,  never  to  be  called  master  again.  Then  she 
thought:  "Oh!  what  wickedness  this,  to  send  that 
soul  to  judgment  unprepared,  so  unfit.  What  would 
be  her  final  punishment  beyond  this  vale  of  tears  ? 
No  ;  this  must  not  be  !  Sleep  on,  Jonathan  Maxwell, 
for  '  vengeance  is  mine/  saith  the  Lord  !"  The  dark 
and  wicked  thoughts  which  had  entered  her  heart 
vanished,  and  light  and  better  judgment  prevailed. 
Her  limbs  now  began  to  quiver  as  she  turned  from 
the  door ;  she  felt  a  weakness  come  over  her.  Her 
eyes,  having  become  accustomed  to  the  darkness 
about,  now  grew  dim,  her  head  grew  dizzy,  she  tot- 
tered as  she  attempted  to  make  her  way  back  to  her 
room,  and  as  she  reached  the  broad  staircase  which 
led  to  the  large  open  hallway  below,  she  reeled  and 
fell.  How  long  she  lay  there  she  did  not  know,  but 
she  was  awakened  by  a  cry  coming  from  the  nursery. 
Raising  herself  with  a  terrible  effort,  half  dazed,  and 
suffering  from  weakness  caused  by  the  recent  excite- 
ment, she  slowly,  and  with  faltering  step,  groped  her 
way  back  along  the  passage  to  the  nursery  door. 
Opening  it  she  entered. 

This  was  Master  Archie's  domain,  who,  being  ac- 
customed to  have  some  one  in  the  room  with  him, 
and  upon  awakening,  not  seeing  Emeline,  his  present 
nurse,  on  the  pallet  she  usually  occupied,  cried  out. 
Elva  went  to  the  child ;  and  at  sight  of  her,  he  shrunk 
back  upon  the  bed  apparently  much  frightened,  cover- 
ing his  head  with  the  coverlets.  For  her  he  had  al- 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  203 

ways  entertained  a  fear.  He  had  good  reasons  at 
that  time  to  be  frightened. 

While  Elva  was  greatly  changed  in  mind,  she  was 
even  more  so  in  appearance,  due  to  the  excitement  of 
the  last  hour  or  so.  Her  hair  now  hung  in  a  dishev- 
eled mass  about  her  shoulders ;  her  face  was  pale 
and  haggard,  while  her  eyes  wore  a  wild  and  restless 
expression.  Her  lips  were  thin  and  bloodless,  and  a 
nervous  twitching  appeared  about  the  corners  of  her 
mouth.  The  child  did  not  know  whether  this  was  an 
apparition  or  not,  so  unseasonable  was  the  hour  for 
Elva  to  be  there. 

She  hurriedly  and  noiselessly  left  the  room,  went 
down  to  the  kitchen,  crossed  the  yard,  and  entered 
one  of  the  many  cabins.  Approaching  a  heap  of 
straw  huddled  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  she  gently 
shook  the  sleeping  form  of  a  girl,  and  bending  her 
head  close  to  the  girl's  ear  she  whispered,  in  sepul- 
chral tones:  "Em,  Em,  get  up."  The  girl,  upon 
recognizing  the  voice,  arose  hastily,  donned  the  one 
garment  that  composed  her  wearing  apparel,  and, 
obeying  a  sign  from  Elva,  followed  her  into  the  yard. 
She  instructed  Emeline  to  go  to  the  nursery  and  re- 
main. Em  had  stolen  away  from  the  nursery  to  en- 
joy a  night's  rest,  free  from  Master  Archie's  annoy- 
ance. She  reluctantly  obeyed  her  mother,  who  now 
returned  to  her  own  room,  threw  herself  upon  the 
bed,  and  tried  to  find  solace  in  sleep.  But  no  sleep 
came  to  her  eyes.  She  tossed  uneasily  upon  the  bed 
for  several  hours,  until  the  morning  came  and  the 


204  BOND    AND    FREE. 

hour  arrived  for  the  commencement  of  her  daily  la- 
bors. She  arose,  by  no  means  refreshed  by  the 
night's  experience,  and  went  mechanically  about  her 
work,  with  her  mind  divided  between  thoughts  of  her 
fleeing  daughter  and  her  own  anticipated  predica- 
ment, resulting  from  eventual  discovery  of  the  escape. 
In  this  condition,  she  performed  her  labors,  hardly 
knowing  what  she  was  doing,  and  before  she  had 
fully  made  up  her  mind  what  to  say  or  do,  in  case 
Mrs.  Maxwell  insisted  upon  Purcey's  return  to  work, 
Emeline  entered  the  kitchen  and  informed  her  that 
she  was  wanted  in  the  library, 

The  library  of  the  Maxwell  house  was  one  of  those 
cosy  apartments  fitted  in  all  of  its  appointments  to 
answer  as  an  office  and  sitting-room.  In  this  apart- 
ment, Jonathan  transacted  all  of  his  business.  It 
contained  a  secretary,  a  large  walnut  desk,  three  or 
four  comfortable  arm-chairs,  and  a  number  of  family 
souvenirs.  A  choice  collection  of  plants  occupied 
considerable  space  in  an  alcove,  and  this  gave  a  cheer- 
ful appearance  to  the  room.  A  sweet  odor  pervaded 
the  room,  emitted  by  the  heliotropes  which  were 
half  hidden  by  the  long,  rich,  lace  curtains  that 
stretched  their  snowy  folds  from  the  high  ceiling  to 
the  floor.  It  was  here  that  Mrs.  Maxwell  passed 
many  hours  of  her  rather  indolent  life  in  reading 
novels  and  annoying  her  husband  with  petty  com- 
plaints upon  the  cares  of  life.  They  were  seated  in 
this  cosy  little  library  for  some  time,  Jonathan  por- 
ing over  some  book  accounts,  and  Mrs.  Maxwell 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  205 

reading  for  awhile,  then  sleeping,  and  at  times  com- 
plaining. The  question  of  Purcey's  continued  ab- 
sence from  her  duties  became  the  subject  of  Mrs. 
Maxwell's  complaints. 

During  Purcey's  illness,  it  had  been  the  custom  of 
Jonathan  Maxwell  and  his  wife  to  make  inquiries 
daily  regarding  her  health.  These  inquiries  were 
made  invariably  of  Elva,  who  permitted  no  one  but 
herself  to  enter  the  sick  room  or  answer  these  inqui- 
ries. This  precaution  had  been  adopted  by  her  in 
order  to  assume  all  responsibility  of  the  escape,  and 
to  allow  as  much  time  as  possible  to  elapse  before 
Purcey's  escape  could  be  discovered. 

The  irrepressible  Elo  had  been  very  inquisitive, 
and  her  mother  found  great  difficulty  in  keeping  her 
from  Purcey's  room.  Had  the  room  been  located  in 
any  other  part  of  the  house,  it  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  invaded  by  Elo ;  but  it  was  directly  over 
the  kitchen,  being  reached  by  a  flight  of  stairs  from 
the  kitchen  only.  The  approach  was,  consequently, 
ever  under  watch  of  the  mother,  who  had  to  cajole  Elo 
in  every  imaginable  manner.  Never  had  the  child 
eaten  so  many  good  things  in  her  life,  as  in  the  brief 
time  pending  the  discovery  of  Purcey's  escape.  She 
came  bounding  into  the  house  one  day  when  Elva 
was  absent  from  the  kitchen.  She  looked  around, 
and  not  seeing  any  one,  stole  softly  to  the  steps.  Lis- 
tening, she  could  hear  nothing.  Then  creeping  softly 
up  the  steps,  she  reached  the  door  of  the  room  where 
Purcey  had  been  sick,  and  peered  through  the  key- 


206  BOND   AND    FREE. 

hole,  but  could  see  nothing.  She  gently  turned  the 
knob  of  the  door,  but  being  locked,  she  could  not  gain 
an  entrance.  For  some  moments,  she  stood  deliber- 
ating what  to  do  next,  and  finally  determined  to  see 
Purcey,  if  in  the  room.  Placing  her  ear  close  to  the 
key-hole,  and  not  hearing  any  sound,  she  next  ap- 
plied her  mouth  and  called. 

"Honey,  honey,  is  you  'sleep?1'  Not  receiving 
any  response,  she  repeated  the  words  again,  but  with 
no  better  result.  She  remarked :  "  Dat's  funny  ;  won- 
der whar  she  is.  I'll  ask  mamma/'  She  crept  down 
the  steps  again,  and  just  as  she  had  reached  the  bot- 
tom of  the  steps,  Elva  entered  the  kitchen  from  the 
dining-room.  She  glared  fiercely  at  the  child  for  a 
moment,  then  advancing  toward  her,  seized  her  arm 
with  a  vise-like  grip,  and  shook  her  until  her  teeth 
rattled,  and  the  child  cried  out  from  pain.  Her  eyes 
were  still  fixed  in  a  wild  stare  upon  the  child,  and 
she  fairly  shrieked:  "What  you  doin'  up  there? 
Didn't  I  tell  you  to  keep  down  from  dat  room  ?  " 

"  Oh,  mamma  !  "  screamed  the  child.  "  I  only  want 
to  see  honey ;  I  ain't  goin'  up  dar  no  more." 

"  Come  here,"  she  said,  and  she  dragged  the  fright- 
ened child  across  the  room.  "  Listen ;  if  you  ever 
go  up  dem  steps  again,  I'll  be  de  death  of  you.  Do 
you  hear?  "  and  she  shook  her  again. 

"Yes,  mamma;  I  won't  go  dar  agin,  only  let  me 

go." 

Leading  her  to  the  door,  Elva  said  to  her :  "If  you 
love  your  sister,  if  you  love  me,  stay  out  of  de  house, 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  207 

unless  I  send  for  you.  Now  go,"  and  she  pushed 
her  out  of  the  door.  * 

Elo  looked  at  her  black  arm,  where  the  prints  of 
her  mother's  fingers  still  remained,  and,  rubbing  that 
member,  she  exclaimed  : 

u  Golly  !  didn't  mamma  look  wild,  and  didn't  she 
hurt  dis  darkey's  arm  !  " 

The  ordeal  now  came  at  last.  Emeline  had  sum- 
moned Elva  to  her  mistress,  and  she  fully  realized 
that  she  must  now  face  the  inevitable.  The  leniency 
of  her  mistress,  of  late,  surprised  her.  For  several 
days  Mrs.  Maxwell  had,  contrary  to  her  custom,  sub- 
mitted to  many  inconveniences  on  account  of  the 
alleged  illness  of  one  of  her  servants.  Had  she  made 
a  peremptory  demand  for  Purcey's  presence,  she 
would  have  been  less  surprised,  though  disheartened  ; 
for  then  Purcey  would  not  have  had  the  long  start 
she  now  enjoyed. 

Mrs.  Maxwell  was  reclining  in  an  easy  chair,  her 
feet  resting  upon  a  velvet-covered  divan.  A  book 
lay  in  her  lap,  the  pages  of  which  she  had  been  care- 
lessly perusing.  A  rich  robe  of  pink  silk  hung  in 
graceful  folds  about  her,  and  a  simple  knot  of  white 
lace  encircled  her  beautiful  throat.  She  was  a  hand- 
some woman,  and,  as  she  sat  in  her  morning-gown, 
free  from  all  adornments,  displaying  only  that  beauty 
which  nature  had  so  lavishly  bestowed  upon  her,  her 
husband  could  not  help  but  yield  to  her  every  re- 
quest. Her  long,  rich,  brown  hair  hung  in  profusion 
about  her  shoulders,  her  skin  was  as  delicate  and 


208  BOXD   AND    FREE. 

transparent  as  pearl,  her  lips  were  of  a  rosy  hue,  dis- 
'closing  teeth  as  white  as  snow.  She  looked  more 
like  a  goddess  of  love  and  beauty  than  the  unfeeling 
woman  that  she  was.  Jonathan  had  for  some  time 
been  endeavoring  to  straighten  some  accounts,  but, 
owing  to  the  frequent  interruptions  of  his  wife,  had 
not  completed  his  task.  Mrs.  Maxwell  tapped  her 
shapely  foot  upon  the  divan  upon  which  it  rested. 
Inclining  her  head  lazily  to  one  side,  she  said,  with  a 
half  petulant  air : 

''Jonathan,  I  do  wish  you  would  put  up  those 
books.  I  have  been  talking  to  you  all  this  time,  and 
you  have  not  paid  me  any  attention  whatever." 

He  ceased  writing,  pushed  his  chair  back  from  the 
desk,  and  looked  admiringly  at  his  wife. 

"Now,  pet,"  said  he,  coaxingly,  "don't  say  that.  I 
have  heard  every  word  you  uttered,  in  fact,  I  have 
written  some  of  them  in  the  ledger." 

"It's  nothing  but  books  and  accounts,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  whenever  I  want  to  talk  with  you.  I  wish 
all  the  books  and  all  the  accounts  were  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea." 

Mrs.  Maxwell,  being  naturally  indolent  and  ac- 
customed to  being  petted,  was  like  the  average 
Southern  lady.  She  did  not  know  what  it  was 
to  help  herself.  A  servant  was  always  at  her  com- 
mand, and  work  of  any  sort  was  absolutely  abhorred 
by  her.  She  had  been  greatly  worried,  since  Purcey's 
illness,  by  the  other  servants,  who  were  either  too  stu- 
pid to  understand  her  ways,  or  too  impudent  for  her ; 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  209 

then,  Jonathan  had  not  shown  any  disposition  to  re- 
gard her  appeals  to  have  Purcey  sent  back  to  her 
post.  But  she  was  a  determined  woman ;  and  when 
she  entered  the  library  in  search  of  her  husband,  it 
was  with  the  settled  purpose  to  carry  her  point,  and 
that  point  was  to  demand,  without  further  delay,  Pur- 
cey's  presence.  Jonathan  had  never  been  able  to 
resist  the  blandishments  of  his  wife,  and  she  knew  it, 
and  the  reason  that  he  had  not  yielded  to  her  request 
and  demanded  Elva  to  send  Purcey  to  her,  was  not 
that  he  regarded  her  illness  as  anything  serious,  or, 
in  fact,  that  he  had  any  regard  for  her  illness  at  all,  but 
he  wanted  to  be  relieved  of  her  presence  about  any 
part  of  the  house  where  he  would  see  her.  . 

It  must  not  be  presumed  that  Jonathan  had  any 
trouble  with  his  conscience  as  having  been  the  cause 
of  the  woman's  illness,  or  had  he  any  doubt  about 
her  being  ill.  He  did,  perhaps,  think  she  was  stretch- 
ing it  out  rather  far  to  remain  away  from  her  duties 
so  long,  but,  as  he  had  no  desire  to  come  in  contact 
with  her,  he  was  rather  inclined  to  indulge  her.  The 
value  of  this  indulgence  to  Purcey  can  readily  be 
seen. 

Mrs.  Maxwell,  having  made  up  her  mind  that  she 
would  no  longer  suffer  inconvenience,  came  at  once 
to  the  point  as  soon  as  Jonathan  turned  his  attention 
to  her,  after  closing  his  book. 

Jonathan  said:  "  I  am  afraid,  were  your  wish  carried 
out,  that  the  world  would  find  it  a  difficult  matter  to 
get  along  without  books  or  accounts.  But  I  am  at 

14 


210  BOND   AND    FREE. 

your  service  now,  and  await  patiently  your  com- 
mands." 

Mrs.  Maxwell  changed  her  position,  so  as  to  bring 
herself  directly  facing  her  husband.  "Jonathan, 
dear,"  she  began,  "  I  cannot  get  along  without  Pur- 
cey.  I  have  so  much  trouble  and  worry  with  these 
other  stupid  servants,  and  Archie,  dear  little  fellow, 
is  constantly  complaining.  Em  left  him  the  other 
night,  and  the  child  says  something  came  into  the 
room  and  frightened  him  nearly  to  death.  Of  course, 
that  was  only  imagination,  but  to  think  of  the  an- 
noyance by  having  to  listen  to  the  child's  nonsense. 
Besides,  it  is  wrong  to  so  indulge  that  girl  in  this 
way — the  very  idea  of  a  nigger  acting  like  a  lady !  " 

Jonathan  laughed  at  his  wife's  petulance,  replying : 

"  Pet,  you  shall  not  be  annoyed  any  longer,  you 
shall  have  your  maid.  But,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  had 
intended  to  hire  her  out  since  her  husband  has  gone. 
I  am  afraid  she  will  grow  devilish. " 

"Afraid ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Maxwell,  affecting  indig- 
nation. "Don't  you  own  her?  Can't  you  cut  the 
devil  out  of  her  ?  I  am  not  afraid  of  her ;  I  want 
her  to  attend  me,  and  she  shall  do  it  Send  for  her 
at  once.  I  would  not  be  surprised  if  she  has  not 
grown  lazy ;  for  you  know  what  a  little  indulgence 
does  for  these  creatures." 

"  Elva  informed  me  this  morning  that  she  would 
be  able  to  attend  her  duties  to-morrow,  and,  perhaps, 
we  had  better  wait.  Nevertheless,  if  you  insist,  why, 
I  shall  send  for  her,"  said  Jonathan,  rising  and  walk- 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  211 

ing  toward  the  bell,  which  was  in  easy  reach  of  Mrs. 
Maxwell.  For  her  to  tap  it,  though,  would  require 
too  much  exertion. 

"  I  do  insist,"  she  said,  lying  back  upon  the  cushions 
of  the  soft  chair ;  "  I  want  her  at  once,  and  will  not 
accept  of  any  of  Elva's  excuses.  I  don't  believe  a 
word  she  says,  as  she  only  tells  us  of  her  relapses  to 
shield  her  in  her  indolence.  If  she  is  able  to  attend 
to  her  duties  to-morrow,  she  is  able  now." 

Jonathan  had  already  rung  the  bell  and  returned 
to  his  seat.  He  was  not  pleased  with  the  idea  of  hav- 
ing Purcey  about  again,  but  being  an  indulgent  hus- 
band, he  yielded  to  his  wife's  desires.  Had  he  known 
how  close  Elva  was  when  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the 
bell,  he  could  have  saved  himself  the  trouble,  for 
when  he  rang,  she  was  right  at  the  door,  having 
been  standing  there  during  the  entire  conversation 
between  her  mistress  and  master. 

We  cannot  commend  Elva  for  being  an  eaves- 
dropper, neither  can  we  condemn  her,  when  we  con- 
sider the  character  of  the  teachings  she  received. 
Whatever,  there  was  despicable  in  the  nature  of  a 
slave  could  be  attributed  to  the  master.  The  first 
instinct  was  to  conceal  everything  from  the  white 
folks.  Candor  was  crushed  out,  honesty  beaten  out, 
and  truth  strangled.  In  view  of  this,  Elva  cannot 
be  judged  too  harshly.  She  had  overheard  the  con- 
versation between  her  mistress  and  master,  and  she 
knew  that,  when  she  would  enter  that  room,  the 
truth  must  be  told.  Summoning  all  of  her  courage. 


212  BOND   AND    FREE. 

and  controlling  herself  as  best  she  could,  she  gently 
pushed  open  the  door  and  entered.  Her  head  was 
erect  and  her  step  unfaltering,  as  she  advanced  to  the 
center  of  the  room,  making  her  accustomed  obeisance. 

The  rich  damask  curtains  permitted  a  soft  ray  of 
sunlight  to  creep  between  their  folds,  and  it  fell  with 
warm  radiance  upon  the  velvet  carpet.  Mrs.  Max- 
well had  changed  her  position,  so  that  she  saw  the 
form  of  Elva  through  the  large  mirror  which  stood 
at  one  end  of  the  room.  She  turned  her  head  care- 
lessly, saying: 

"  Elva,  I  want  you  to  send  Purcey  to  me  at  once.'' 

The  woman  hung  her  head  and  her  eyes  sought 
the  floor,  but  she  said  not  a  word  in  response  to  her 
mistress's  command,  nor  did  she  move.  Mrs.  Max- 
well's voice  rose  to  a  higher  key  as  she  repeated  her 
command.  The  woman  still  remained  motionless. 
Turning  in  her  chair,  the  mistress  looked  upon  Elva 
and  encountered  those  large  black  eyes  resting  fully 
upon  her;  their  burning  intensity  caused  her  to 
shrink.  But  it  was  woman  to  woman,  and  she  fairly 
screamed : 

"  Elva,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Did  you  not  hear  me  ? 
How  dare  you  stand  there  and  not  obey  ?  Leave  the 
room,  and  do  as  I  bid  you." 

A  sardonic  smile  played  around  Elva's  mouth. 
Raising  her  eyes  arid  looking  full  at  her  mistress, 
she  said  slowly : 

"Miss  Jinnie,  don't  I  always  'bey  you?  Ain't  I 
yours  for  you  to  do  what  you  please  with  ?  Yes ;  dat's 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  213 

true,"  she  said,  as  though  talking  to  herself.  "  But 
when  you  tell  me  bring  Puree  here,  I  can't.  No; 
can't  do  dat,  Miss  Jinnie." 

"  Woman,  are  you  crazy  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Max- 
well, rising.  "Leave  the  room  at  once,  and  send 
Purcey  here.  If  she  can't  walk,  let  her  crawl.  I 
won't  indulge  niggers  in  their  laziness  any  longer." 

Elva  walked  toward  the  door,  her  first  intention 
being  to  go,  and  say  no  more,  but  at  once  make  her 
escape.  But  she  quickly  reconsidered,  for  she  must 
stand  between  her  child  and  her  master.  If  she  at- 
tempted escape,  she  would  only  be  captured  and  pun- 
ished. If  she  remained  and  faced  the  punishment 
consequent  upon  her  deception,  she  would  at  least 
feel  that  she  was  but  the  sacrifice  for  her  child's 
liberty.  Death  had  no  terrors  for  her ;  she  had  ac- 
complished all  she  could,  and  was  ready  now  to  suf- 
fer. Upon  reaching  the  door,  she  turned  to  her  mis- 
tress, and  said : 

"  Miss  Jinnie,  I'm  not  crazy,  but  Purcey  is  beyond 
your  reach,  praise  God  !  She  is  gone ;  and  I  hope,  by 
this  time,  she's  safe  on  de  other  side." 

Jonathan,  who  had  been  busily  .engaged  writing 
letters,  had  not  paid  much  attention  to  what  had  trans- 
pired between  his  wife  and  Elva,  but  now  that  his 
attention  was  attracted  by  the  excited  manner  of  his 
wife,  he  arose  from  his  seat  in  time  to  catch  Elva's 
last  remark. 

"What  is  that  you  say?"  he  demanded,  as  he  ap- 
proached the  woman.  "Where  has  she  gone?  You 


214  BOND   AND    FREE. 

don't  mean  that  she  is  dead,  do  you?"  and  his  voice 
softened.  He  thought,  perhaps,  she  was  dead  from  the 
way  Elva  spoke,  a  way  that  the  negroes  had  of  speak- 
ing of  the  dead  ;  as,  "  having  crossed  over  the  chilly 
waters  of  Jordan,"  or  "  beyond  this  vale  of  tears,"  and 
many  other  quaint  and  original  sayings.  But  when 
Elva  informed  him  what  she  really  meant,  he  was,  in- 
deed, surprised. 

"  No,  Massa  Johnnie,  she's  not  dead,  but  free,  free ! 
I  hope  safe — 

Before  she  could  utter  another  word,  Jonathan  had 
her  by  the  throat, 

"  You  lie,  you  hag,  you.  Tell  me  the  truth  or  I'll 
strangle  you,"  he  said,  between  his  clinched  teeth. 
"Where  has  she  gone?  when  did  she  go?  Speak!" 
and,  as  he  said  this,  he  hurled  her  from  him.  She 
caught  her  breath  arid  laughed  tauntingly  at  her 
master. 

"  No  use,  Massa  Johnnie.  You  can  beat  and  you 
can  kill,  but  whar  she's  gone  and  when  she  went 
you'll  never  know." 

Then,  with  a  laugh  that  rung  in  Jonathan's  ears 
until  his  death,  she  rushed  by  him  out  of  the  room. 
Mrs.  Maxwell  had  sunk  into  a  chair  from  fright,  and 
was  really  applying  her  own  smelling-salts.  Jona- 
than soon  followed  Elva,  summoning  the  overseer, 
and  directing  him  to  secure  Elva  and  confine  her 
until  further  orders.  Eeturning  to  his  wife,  he  con- 
sulted as  to  what  was  best  to  do.  She  suggested  that 
Elva  be  punished  until  she  told  all  she  knew.  Act- 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  215 

ing  upon  this  suggestion,  he  instructed  Lewis,  the 
overseer,  to  punish  Elva  in  whatever  manner  he  saw 
fit,  in  order  to  make  her  divulge  what  she  knew. 

The  commission  could  not  have  been  delegated  to 
one  more  faithful  and  willing.  It  was  seldom  that 
any  of  the  house-servants  were  handed  over  to  be 
castigated  by  him,  and  for  the  many  years  he  had 
been  upon  the  Maxwell  place,  he  had  never  had  the 
opportunity  of  punishing  Elva  or  any  of  her  chil- 
dren, and  when  he  assured  Jonathan  that  he  would 
bring  her  about,  he  meant  to  do  it,  or  kill  her  in  the 
attempt. 

Jonathan  was  chagrined  and  greatly  put  out  at  the 
idea  of  being  so  cleverly  outwitted  by  Elva.  That 
she  must  be  sold  was  a  settled  thing,  but  something 
must  be  learned  from  her  as  to  the  length  of  time 
Purcey  had  been  gone.  Pursuit  would  be  foolish- 
ness until  this  could  be  ascertained.  All  the  negroes 
about  the  place  were  closely  questioned,  but  not  one 
knew  of  her  disappearance,  thus  forcing  him  to  the 
conclusion  that  Elva  alone  could  furnish  the  desired 
information. 

One  of  the  most  important  things  that  slaves  were 
impressed  with  was  that  they  were  subordinate  to 
the  will  of  the  master,  and  any  infraction  of  that  will 
would  be  visited  with  terrible  consequences.  They 
were  taught  that  the  white  man  was  supposed  to  do 
their  thinking ;  his  word  was  law,  and  his  will  theirs. 
An  example  must  be  made  of  Elva  in  order  that  the 
other  slaves  would  profit  by  it  Jonathan  would 


216  BOND   AND    FREE. 

have  liked  to  have  captured  Purcey,  but  as  he  did 
not  know  whether  she  had  been  gone  a  day  or  a 
week,  he  was  not  very  hopeful.  When  Lewis  re- 
ceived instructions  to  punish  Elva,  he  at  once  pro- 
ceeded to  carry  out  his  mission.  He  did  not  have 
much  trouble  in  finding  her,  as  she  had  gone  directly 
to  one  of  the  cabins,  where,  falling  upon  her  knees, 
she  was  engaged  in  an  earnest  prayer  when  he  entered. 
Walking  up  to  the  woman,  he  seized  her  roughly  by 
the  arm,  and  said  : 

"Git  up  here,  you  she-devil;  I'll  give  you  some- 
thing to  pray  for,"  and  he  led  the  way  to  the  corn- 
crib,  which  immediately  adjoined  the  barn,  and  was, 
at  this  time,  quite  empty.  He  pushed  her  in,  pro- 
cured a  rope,  passed  it  around  her  wrist,  then  threw 
it  over  a  beam  and  hoisted  her  body  up  until  her  feet 
just  slightly  touched  the  floor.  When  he  had  thus 
secured  her,  he  left  her,  saying  that,  when  she  got 
ready  to  talk,  she  would  be  taken  down. 

She  was  left  in  this  position  for  several  hours,  un- 
til every  sinew  in  her  body  had  been  extended  to  its 
utmost  tension.  Still  she  remained  silent.  Finding 
the  woman  still  stubborn,  Lewis  decided  upon  a 
more  severe  punishment.  He,  thereupon,  released  her 
and  dragged  her  to  the  carriage-room.  Her  hands 
were  placed  in  a  vise  and  squeezed  until  the  blood 
spurted  from  the- ends  of  her  fingers.  The  woman 
sank  to  the  floor,  writhing  in  pain,  but  not  a  word 
escaped  her  lips.  Leaving  her  in  this  condition,  with 
swollen  arms  and  bleeding  fingers,  he  procured  an- 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  217 

other  rope,  and  summoning  one  of  the  other  men  to 
assist  him,  raised  the  prostrate  form  of  the  woman 
and  lashed  it  to  an  upright  post.  He  then  bared  her 
back,  and  with  the  end  of  a  heavy  leather  trace,  beat 
her  until  his  arm  became  so  tired  that  he  could  not  raise 
it.  Dissolving  a  quantity  of  salt  in  water,  he  dashed 
it  upon  her  now  lacerated  and  bleeding  back.  After 
releasing  her,  she  sank  to  the  floor,  an  almost  lifeless 
mass  of  humanity. 

There  she  was  left  to  wallow  in  her  own  blood,  and 
to  die  the  death  of  a  dog.  Lewis  recognized  now 
that  he  had  gone  too  far.  But  what  had  he  to  fear? 
The  law  would  not  prosecute  him,  even  in  event  of 
her  death.  He  had  but  to  declare  that  she  had  raised 
her  hand  against  him,  and  he  would  be  vindicated ; 
for  it  was  death  by  the  law  for  a  negro  to  raise  his 
hand  against  a  white  man.  The  punishment  inflicted 
by  Lewis  upon  Elva  was  cruel,  so  much  so  that  we 
wonder  that  a  human  heart  could  be  so  brutal  as  to 
instigate  such  suffering.  But  there  was  no  cruelty, 
no  brutality,  that  the  human  mind  could  conceive, 
that  the  negroes  were  not  made  to  suffer.  The  very 
devil  himself  must  have  been  the  orginator  of  some 
of  their  cruelties. 

Elva  was  unable  to  move  from  the  spot  where  she 
sank  down,  and  as  she  lay  there  writhing  and  groan- 
ing from  pain,  not  a  person  dared  go  near  her.  Elo 
had  been  working  in  the  field  all  day,  and  did  not 
learn  that  her  mother  had  been  beaten  until  her  re- 
turn at  night  Nobody  ever  noticed  her,  and  she 


218  BOND   AXD    FREE. 

only  gained  the  information  by  hearing  others  speak 
of  it  When  she  finally  learned  where  her  mother 
was,  she  determined  upon  going  to  her.  Favored  by 
the  darkness,  she  gained  an  entrance  to  the  carriage- 
house,  and  guided  by  the  groans  of  her  mother,  she 
groped  her  way  to  her.  Placing  her  hands  upon  the 
body,  she  whispered  : 

''Mamma,  mamma,  is  dis  you?  " 
Elva's  only  answer  was  a  groan.  Elo's  eyes  soon 
became  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  and  when  she 
discovered  the  pitiable  condition  of  her  mother,  un- 
couth, untutored  as  she  was,  she  broke  out  in  a  par- 
oxysm of  grief.  Leaving  her  mother,  she  clambered 
into  the  loft  and  obtained  some  straw.  She  then  pro- 
cured bedding  and  made  a  rude  couch,  and  after  con- 
siderable exertion,  at  the  expense  of  a  great  deal  of 
pain  to  her  mother,  she  succeeded  in  getting  her  body 
in  a  more  comfortable  position.  Having  done  this, 
she  went  and  obtained  food  and  water,  and,  with  her 
mother's  head  upon  her  lap,  insisted  upon  her  partak- 
ing of  it.  When  Elva  recognized  who  it  was  that 
was  treating  her  so  kindly,  she  endeavored  to  place 
her  arm  around  the  child's  neck,  whispering : 
"  God  bless  you,  honey,  (rod  bless  you  !" 
The  child  was  overcome  with  joy  upon  hearing  her 
mother's  voice,  and,  regardless  of  the  pain  she  caused, 
she  wildly  threw  her  arms  about  her  neck,  exclaim- 
ing: 

"Oh,  mamma,  you  is  all  right;  isn't  you?  " 

"  Yes,  honey,"  replied  the  mother.     "  I'se  all  right, 


A  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE.  219 

but  I'se  goin'  to  leave  you.     I  hear  de  music ;  I'se 
nearin'  de  river;  give  me  yo  hand,  chile." 

l'  Oh,  took  me  wid  you,  mamma ;  I  don't  want  to 
stay  har !  Whar  you  gwine  ?  " 

Elo  did  not  fully  realize  her  mother's  pitiful  con- 
dition, nor  did  she  understand  the  meaning  of  her 
words.  She  did  not  know  that,  in  a  few  moments, 
all  that  was  mortal  of  her  mother  would  be  lifeless. 

"I  can't  take  you  now,  chile,"  said  Elva,  "  but  be 
good  and  you'll  come  bye  and  bye.  Look  yonder, 
honey  !  See  de  angels  !  Hark  !  hear  de  music.  Good- 
bye, Massa  Johnnie,  Elva's — free — -.free  at  last !" 

With  these  words,  her  head  fell  heavily  upon  the 
child's  bosom.  A  smile  overspread  her  face,  and  her 
eyes  were  closed  in  death.  Thus  died  this  slave- 
mother,  sacrificing  her  life  that  her  child  might  en 
joy  freedom,  a  martyr  to  liberty,  and,  although  denied 
every  opportunity  to  cultivate  a  mind  undoubtedly 
possessed  of  great  natural  powers,  yet  her  life  was  a 
bright  luminary  among  those  with  whom  she  dwelt. 

Come,  Jonathan  Maxwell,  and  view  your  work! 
Gaze  upon  the  lifeless  form  of  this  woman !  See  if 
you  cannot  realize  what  you  have  done — a  father  sold, 
a  mother  and  son  fleeing  for  what  you  enjoy  unre- 
strained, and  at  your  feet  a  lifeless  form,  made  so  by 
your  command !  Is  the  master's  will  obeyed  ?  Is  the 
brutality  of  your  overseer  satiated  ? 

Elo  called  upon  her  mother  to  speak  again,  but  the 
lips  remained  motionless.  The  child  had  never  be- 
fore been  in  the  presence  of  death,  and,  realizing  that 


220  BOND   AND    FREE. 

something  unusual  had  happened  her  mother,  she  set 
up  such  a  terrible  screaming  that,  in  a  short  time, 
nearly  everybody  upon  the  place  was  alarmed.  When 
they  rushed  into  the  carriage- house,  they  beheld  a 
sight  that  almost  froze  the  marrow  in  their  bones. 
The  body  was  removed  and  laid  away  with  the  cere- 
mony which  the  other  slaves  were  permitted  to  be- 
stow, and  Brother  Beldin  discussed  her  virtues  to  a 
weeping  and  sympathetic  audience.  The  mother-earth 
closed  over  Elva's  remains,  but  no  stone  or  other  em- 
blem marks  her  resting-place ;  and  she  lives  only  in 
the  memory  of  those  for  whom  she  sacrificed  so  much? 
and  in  that  of  Jonathan,  who  never  forgot  the  last 
look  she  gave  him. 

Uncle  Joshua  wore  crape  upon  his  battered  white 
hat  for  many  long  days,  and  Elo,  who  never  became 
reconciled  to  her  mother's  punishment  and  death, 
grew  so  vicious  that  whipping  had  no  effect  upon 
her,  and  she  was  sold  to  the  traders  and  taken  South. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  TEACHER  AND  HER  PUPIL  CROSS  THE 
LINE. 

The  old  stage-coach  in  which  Purcey  and  Sallie 
had  taken  passage  rumbled  through  the  narrow  street 
of  a  small  village,  and  stopped  in  front  of  a  rather 
modest  and  unpretentious-looking  dwelling.  The 
driver  alighted  and  informed  them  that  the  occupant 
of  the  house  was  a  widow  lady,  who  would,  perhaps, 
give  them  accommodation.  Sallie  left  Purcey  and 
the  child  in  the  stage  and  approached  the  house. 
She  raised  the  heavy  brass  knocker,  and  the  sound, 
as  it  fell,  seemed  to  reecho  throughout  the  house^ 
In  response  to  the  knock,  the  door  was  opened  by  a 
tall,  matronly-looking  female,  with  a  sad  face,  the 
corners  of  the  mouth  well  drawn  down ;  a  pair  oi 
eyes  of  a  greenish  tint  looked  over  a  pair  of  bowed 
spectacles,  and  her  gray  hair  was  done  up  in  crisp 
curls,  which  could  just  be  seen  beneath  a  black  lace 
cap ;  a  black  gown  and  a  black  apron  adorned  the 
figure,  and  the  rather  sombre  appearance  of  the 
woman  was  only  relieved  by  a  white  collar  which 
encircled  her  neck,  protruding  about  an  inch  above 
the  black  band  of  the  dress. 

Sallie  made  known  her  wants  to  this  individual, 
stating  that  she  wanted  accommodation  for  herself, 

[221] 


222  BOND   AND   FREE. 

a  servant,  and  a  child.  The  Widow  Thorm  informed 
her  that  she  would  accommodate  them  the  best  she 
could,  and  invited  her  in.  Purcey  and  the  child  fol- 
lowed. They  were  ushered  into  a  small,  but  neat, 
parlor,  where  a  cheerful  fire  was  burning  in  an  open 
fire  place.  It  was  still  raining,  and  our  travelers 
were  tired  and  hungry.  The  widow  busied  herself 
in  making  them  comfortable,  paying  all  attention  to 
Sallie,  as  a  matter  of  course.  When  she  had  assisted 
her  in  removing  her  wraps,  she  said : 

"Now,  miss,  the  servant  can  take  the  child  and  go 
into  the  kitchen,  where  she  will  find  a  comfortable 
fire." 

"No,"  said  Sallie,  "  I  prefer  her  to  remain  here 
with  me." 

The  widow  raised  her  eyes  in  surprise,  but  said 
nothing.  When  the  meal  which  Sallie  had  ordered 
was  prepared,  it  was  announced  by  a  rather  diminu- 
tive, hungry-looking  servant  girl,  who  ambled  into 
the  parlor  and  stared  first  at  Sallie,  then  at  Purcey, 
finally  stating  that  "missa  said  de  white  lady  was  to 
come  to  supper." 

They  both,  however,  followed  her  into  the  dining- 
room,  which  was  small  like  the  parlor,  but  equally 
as  neat.  Sallie  looked  at  the  table,  and  saw  that  pre- 
parations had  been  made  for  herself  only.  She  asked 
for  an  additional  chair  for  Purcey,  which  was  placed 
at  the  table.  The  widow  again  looked  surprised. 
While  they  ate,  she  carefully  scanned  the  child,  con- 
cluding that  Purcey  was  the  mother.  She  was  some- 


ACKOSS    THE    LINE.  223 

what  puzzled,  as  she  could  not  understand  how  it  was 
that  a  young  white  lady,  traveling  with  a  servant, 
permitted  that  servant  to  carry  about  with  her  a  child 
of  which  she  was  evidently  the  mother.  Deeming 
it  impertinent  to  ask  any  questions,  she  decided  to 
control  her  curiosity  until  she  could  consult  her  ad- 
viser. 

The  Widow  Thorm,  as  she  was  called  throughout 
the  village,  was  well  known  to  the  residents  of  that 
quiet  little  hamlet.  She  earned  rather  a  respectable 
living  by  keeping  boarders,  and  was  possessed  of  all 
the  qualities  of  the  average  boarding-house  mistress, 
combining  a  considerable  degree  of  cleverness  with  a 
confiding  nature.  Her  house  was  liberally  patronized 
during  the  summer  season,  by  people  seeking  quiet 
from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  city  life,  and  its  limited 
quarters  were  often  taxed  to  the  fullest  extent. 

While  the  widow  had  great  confidence  in  herself, 
yet  she  entertained  much  respect  for  the  views  and 
opinions  of  her  friend,  Dr.  Parloe,  a  gentleman  who 
compounded  medicines  and  attended  the  ills  of  the 
village  sick.  This  was  the  adviser  whom  she  in- 
tended to  consult. 

After  Sallie  and  Purcey  had  finished  their  meal, 
they  returned  to  the  parlor,  where  the  widow  awaited 
them.  As  they  entered,  she  addressed  Sallie,  saying  : 

"I  shall  have  to  place  your  servant  in  the  room 
with  mine,  as  I  have  no  other  place  for  her  to  sleep." 

"  Don't  give  yourself  the  least  trouble  about  that,1' 
replied  Sallie,  "we  can  both  occupy  the  same  room; 


224  BOND   AND   FREE. 

in  fact,  I  much  prefer  it,  as  I  never  like  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  my  servant" 

"You don't  mean,  miss,  that  you  will  sleep  in  the 
same  room  with  your  servant!"  said  the  widow, 
plainly  displaying  her  astonishment. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean.  My  health  is  not  good, 
and  I  never  sleep  without  having  her  in  the  room 
with  me." 

The  widow  was  a  lady  who  believed  that  there  was 
no  level  upon  which  black  and  white  could  meet. 
She  had  entertained,  under  her  hospitable  roof,  all 
classes  of  people,  but  never  before  had  she  come  in 
contact  with  a  white  lady  who  desired  her  negro  ser- 
vant to  sleep  in  the  same  room  with  her.  It  was  not 
that  she  was  prejudiced,  but  it  was  so  contrary  to  all 
custom.  She  was  astonished  when  they  ate  at  the 
same  table ;  but  now,  they  were  to  sleep  in  the  same 
room,  and,  as  ghe  had  made  no  other  arrangements, 
probably  in  the  same  bed.  She  was  outdone.  Who 
could  this  strange  couple  be?  Purcey  was  fair  and 
handsome,  but  it  was  evident  that  she  was  of  negro 
descent,  for  the  child  clearly  betrayed  that  fact.  Sal- 
lie  was  comely,  but,  to  all  appearance,  a  mistress,  yet 
she  did  not  understand  their  relations. 

Like  all  women,  the  widow  was  curious,  but  she 
said  to  Sallie : 

^  "  Well,  miss,  I  shall  arrange  the  room,  and  you 
can  retire  whenever  you  see  fit.  Of  course,  if  you 
have  no  objection  to  your  servant  occupying  the  same 


ACROSS    THE    LINE.  225 

room  with  you,  why,  I  am  sure  I  have  none,"  and  she 
left  the  room  with  a  look  of  disgust 

Sallie  laughed,  and,  turning  to  Purcey,  said: 
"She  seems  quite  curious,  does  she  not?" 
"  Yes,"  answered  Purcey.     "  I  only  hope  her  curi- 
osity will  not  lead  her  too  far.     We  are  in  a  strange 
country,  and  I  so  fear  some  one  will  suspect  us;  we 
must  be  very  cautious  so  as  not  to  arouse  any  sus- 
picion.    I  don't  think  I  can  sleep  much  to-night,  al- 
though I  am  very  tired." 

"I  am  tired,  too,"  said  Sallie,  drawing  near  to  Pur- 
cey, and  speaking  in  a  low  voice,  "but  I  shall  watch 
while  you  sleep,  and  you  can  do  the  same  while  I 
sleep." 

They  did  not  have  time  to  say  anything  more,  for 
the  diminutive  servant  of  the  widow  appeared,  and 
announced  that  their  room  was  ready.  They  fol- 
lowed her  upstairs  to  a  tidy  bed  room,  and,  after  giv- 
ing orders  to  be  called  in  time  for  the  early  morning 
stage,  they  locked  themselves  in  the  room.  They 
both  needed  rest,  so,  after  having  discussed  their  plans 
for  the  next  day,  Sallie  retired  while  Purcey  kept 
watch. 

The  Widow  Thorm  had  betaken  herself  to  the  lit- 
tle parlor  after  her  guest  had  retired.  Having  stirred 
up  the  fire,  she  placed  upon  a  table  a  tray  containing 
a  cup  and  saucer,  and  a  good-sized  silver  tea-urn. 
She  smoothed  out  the  wrinkles  in  her  dress,  adjusted 
her  cap,  and  seated  herself  as  though  in  waiting  for 
some  one.  She  had  been  seated  for  some  time,  her 

15 


226  BOND    AN])    FEEE. 

mind  engaged  with  thoughts  of  her  guest,  when  the 
outer  door  opened,  and  the  footsteps  of  a  man  were 
heard  in  the  hallway.  The  widow  did  not  appear 
anyway  alarmed,  but  waited  until  the  man  made  his 
appearance.  As  he  entered  the  room,  she  arose,  ap- 
proached him  ,and  relieved  him  of  his  hat  and  cane, 
her  face  wearing  a  most  benign  smile,  and  her  green- 
ish eyes  twinkling  with  delight. 

The  person  who  had  just  entered  the  widow's 
domicile  in  such  a  familiar  manner  was  Doctor  Par- 
loe,  the  village  apothecary  and  medical  adviser,  and 
the  Widow  Thornrs  legal  and  medical  adviser.  He 
was  a  very  frequent,  as  well  as  a  welcome,  visitor.  t  It 
may  have  been  a  late  hour  for  a  lone  lady  to  receive 
a  visitor,  but  then  the  doctor  could  not  come  until 
after  business  hours,  and  if  there  were  any  impropri- 
ety in  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  the  circumstances  un- 
der which  he  called  made  him  feel  privileged.  Doc- 
tor Parloe  was  a  man  who  had  seen  some  fifty  odd 
years.  His  experience  in  life  had  been  such  as  to 
make  him  a  very  practical  man,  yet  there  are  things 
in  the  life  of  some  men,  although  of  fifty  years'  ex- 
perience, that  are  criticised  by  the  world.  But  the 
world  is  cynical  at  any  rate,  and  if  Doctor  Parloe  had 
schooled  himself  to  have  opinions  in  which  other 
men  refused  to  concur,  why.  he  simply  pronounced 
all  those  who  differed  with  him  as  fools.  He  was  not 
a  misanthropist — that  is,  in  the  strict  sense — yet  he 
had  little  regard  for  mankind,  and  no  respect  for 
their  opinions  when  they  differed  from  his.  He  was 


ACEOSS    THE    LINE.  227 

philosophic,  so  he  thought  and  so  the  widow  thought 
That  a  man  like  the  doctor  should  condescend  to 
give  his  valuable  time  to  a  person  like  the  Widow 
Thorm,  would  have  appeared  remarkable,  were  it  not 
for  the  fact  that,  no  matter  how  lofty  man  soars,  he 
must  find  some  congenial  companionship  on  this 
mundane  sphere.  In  the  widow,  the  doctor  found 
what  he  could  not  find  in  others — a  good  listener,  a 
generous  soul,  a  confiding  nature,  and  one  who  never 
disputed  his  opinions.  He  was,  as  we  have  said,  a 
frequent  and  welcome  visitor  at  the  widow's.  No 
matter  when  he  came,  a  generous  supply  of  cold  tea, 
a  favorite  beverage  of  the  doctor's,  was  always  on 
hand.  He  generally  remained  until  the  tea  was  ex- 
hausted and  Thorm,  as  he  called  her,  was  weighted 
down  with  his  logic  and  would  grow  disinterested. 

In  appearance,  the  doctor  was  anything  but  philo- 
sophical, being  rotund  in  form  and  possessing  a  very 
broad  and  very  red  face,  with  a  rim  of  whiskers  that 
ran  from  one  ear  to  the  other,  under  a  very  fat  chin 
which  rested  upon  his  cravat.  His  head  was  decor- 
ated with  a  few  scattered  hairs,  which  formed  a  circle 
around  the  lower  part,  leaving  the  top  utterly  bare. 
He  had  but  one  eye,  but  it  was  a  brilliant  and  fiery 
orb ;  its  luster  seemed  never  to  be  dimmed.  Seating 
himself  at  the  table,  on  which  sat  the  tea  urn,  he, 
without  ceremony,  filled  his  cup  and  .turned  the  full 
effulgence  of  that  single  eye  upon  the  widow,  who  sat 
opposite  him. 

The    widow  invariably  permitted    the  doctor   to 


228  BOND   AND    FKEE. 

open  the  conversation,  her  part  being  to  give  quiet 
acquiescence.  In  fact,  the  doctor  assumed  the  right 
to  speak  before  being  spoken  to,  and  one  of  his  chief 
reasons  for  visiting  the  widow  so  often  was  because 
she  was  so  good  a  listener.  But  to-night  she  was 
burning  up  with  curiosity,  and  she  overleaped  the 
bounds  of  all  precedent,  arid  shocked  the  doctor  so 
severely  that  it  took  him  some  time  to  recover.  The 
widow  broke  out  almost  as  soon  as  he  was  seated : 

"Doctor  Parloe,  something  very  remarkable  has 
happened  in  the  house.  Pray,  what  do  you  think? " 

Now,  the  first  remark,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  the  widow  had  committed  a  breach,  was  all 
right;  but  when  she  asked  the  doctor  what  he 
thought,  the  arm  with  which  he  was  conveying  the 
cup  of  tea  to  his  lips  stopped  half  way,  his  eye 
opened  wide,  his  lips  parted,  and  he  stared  at  the 
woman  in  such  a  manner  as  to  forcibly  remind  her 
of  what  she  had  done.  She  was  about  to  apologize, 
when  he  set  the  cup  down  and  said,  in  a  slow,  deliber- 
ate manner: 

"  I  think,  I  think,  Thorm,  that  you  are  a  fool,"  and, 
raising  his  cup  of  tea,  he  drank  it  at  a  draught. 

Thorm  did  not  stop  for  this,  but  broke  in  by  say- 
ing: "  But,  doctor,  this  is  really  important,  and  I  want 
your  opinion." 

"That,"  said  he,  "you  shall  have,  but  I  hope  you 
will  not  forget  yourself  again.  Always  remember 
the  distance  between  the  philosophic  and  the  unphil- 
osophic  mind ;  always  have  a  due  regard  for  those 


ACROSS   THE    LINE.  229 

who,  by  their  great  abilities,  are  distinctive  in  their 
natures.     Proceed." 

"  To-night,"  began  the  widow,  "  there  came  here  a 
lady  with  a  negro-servant.  The  servant  had  a  child. 
When  I  proposed  that  she  (the  servant)  eat  in  the 
kitchen,  the  lady  objected,  and— 

"  There !"  said  the  doctor,  raising  his  hand  and  clos- 
ing his  eye.  "  You  need  not  go  any  further,  she  is 
an  abolitionist." 

"  But  that  is  not  all,"  continued  the  widow.  "When 
I  informed  her  I  could  not  give  the  servant  sleeping 
accommodation  unless  she  slept  in  the  same  room  with 
mine,  she  horrified  me  by  telling  me  they  could  both 
sleep  in  the  same  room.  Isn't  it  awful  ?" 

"Not  at  all,"  said  the  doctor,  "not  at  all.  That 
goes  to  prove  my  theory  more  conclusively.  She  is 
a  black  abolitionist,  that  is  my  opinion.  Now,  my  ad- 
vice is,  that  you  devote  your  time  exclusively  to  your 
own  business,  and  don't  interfere  with  that  of  your 
neighbors ;  and  if  a  young  white  woman  so  far  for- 
gets her  elevated  station  as  to  eat  at  the  same  table 
and  sleep  in  the  same  room  with  a  black  woman,  don't 
you  do  it." 

The  widow  had,  of  course,  nothing  more  to  say  -af- 
ter this  opinion  and  admonition.  He  was  allowed 
to  indulge  in  his  usual  evening's  talk,  the  widow  sit- 
ting a  patient  listener.  The  subject  of  the  guest  was 
not  touched  upon  any  more,  and  when  the  doctor  had 
finished  his  last  cup  of  tea  and  the  last  of  the  tea,  the 
widow  caught  herself  nodding  acquiescence  to  some- 


230  BOXD   AXD    FREE. 

thing  she  had  not  heard.  He  bade  her  good-night, 
with  this  parting  injunction:  "  Remember,  Thorm,  all 
you  have  to  do  with  the  strangers  is  to  collect  your 
bill  before  they  depart,  and  don't  interfere  with  that 
which  don't  concern  you." 

The  former  part  of  this  advice  was  unnecessary,  as 
she  rarely,  if  ever,  lost  a  bill.  The  widow  was  not 
at  all  satisfied  with  the  doctor's  advice  or  opinion ; 
her  curiosity  was  not  appeased,  but,  placing  implicit 
confidence  in  his  conclusions,  she  forced  herself  to 
accept  them  in  lieu  of  anything  better,  and  retired  for 
the  night. 

The  next  day  broke  forth  with  all  the  beauty  and 
favor  that  nature  could  bestow.  There  was  but  little 
more  than  the  usual  bustle  about  the  Widow  Therm's 
hostelrie,  and  at  the  appointed  hour  the  stage-coach 
drove  up  to  the  door ;  the  widow's  rather  exorbitant 
bill  was  settled  by  Sal  lie,  and  once  more  Purcey  set 
her  face  toward  freedom.  Purcey's  object  now  was 
to  travel,  without  another  stop,  direct  to  Canada.  She 
had  selected  as  short  a  route  as  was  safe  for  them  to 
take.  Having  reached  the  town  of  E ,  in  Penn- 
sylvania, she  was  at  last  in  sight  of  the  promised  land. 
The  long,  gray  strip  of  land  stretched  out  before  her 
gaze  presented  an  inviting  view ;  it  was  the  refuge 
for  which  she  longed — the  Canaan  of  her  hopes.  Her 
heart  throbbed  with  joy  unutterable  as  she  beheld 
it,  but  a  wide  expanse  of  water  intervened  between 
her  and  liberty,  as  well  as  difficulties  not  antici- 
pated. She  and  Sallie  could  not  take  a  boat  and 


ACROSS    THE    LINE.  231 

cross  boldly.  To  do  this,  she  feared,  would  create 
suspicion  that  might  lead  to  inquiries  not  easily  or 
satisfactorily  answered.  Sallie  had  no  papers  in  her 
possession  to  show  that  she  was  the  mistress,  nor  did 
she  know  anything  of  this  requirement.  Purcey  did, 
however,  and  thought  of  it  more  than  once  during 
their  travels.  She  was  confident  that  Jonathan  had 
advertised  her ;  and  the  points  that,  she  was  certain, 
would  be  watched  were  all  Northern  places  affording 
passage  to  Canada. 

They  had  reached  the  place  where  they  now  were 
at  night,  and  were  quartered  at  a  small  tavern.  They 
could  not  leave  their  present  place  of  concealment  in 
daylight,  and  Purcey  feared  to  leave  it  at  night,  ex- 
cept alone.  This  necessitated  a  separation  from  Sallie. 
She  further  realized  that  she  must  cross  the  lake 
under  the  care  and  protection  of  some  one  person. 
Now,  where  was  that  person  to  be  found,  and  who 
would  it  be?  They  were  sitting  in  their  room,  Sallie 
engaged  in  reading,  while  Purcey's  brain  was  actively 
engaged  in  struggling  with  the  above  thoughts.  Re- 
membering that  she  had  seen  a  negro  boy  doing  chores 
about  the  house,  she  decided  to  gain,  if  possible,  some 
information  from  him.  Perhaps  he  could  guide  her 
across  the  lake,  or  direct  her  to  some  one  who  could. 
Sallie  must,  however,  approach  him  and  procure  the 
necessary  information.  Having  reached  this  conclu- 
sion, she  proceeded  to  disclose  to  Sallie  her  plans. 
She  said : 

"  Sallie,  you  know  that  we  are  now  in   sight  of 


232  BOND    AND    FREE. 

Canada,  but  we  cannot  cross  the  lake  together.  You 
must  go  ahead  and  wait  for  me." 

"  Why  must  I  leave  you?  "  said  Sallie,  raising  her 
eyes  from  her  book  with  a  look  of  astonishment. 
"  Would  you  not  be  safer  with  me  ?  Cannot  both  of 
us  cross  safely?  " 

"No," said  Purcey,  "you  have  no  papers  to  prove 
that  I  am  your  property,  should  any  one  question  us. 
It  would  be  better  that  you  take  the  boat  to-morrow, 
and  I  shall  follow  at  night  with  the  child." 

"  I  fear,"  exclaimed  Sallie,  who  now  began  to  re- 
alize the  danger  her  friend  was  in,  "  that  something 
might  befall  you.  Why  not  entrust  the  child  to  my 
care?" 

Purcey  would  not  listen  to  this,  but  insisted  that 
Sallie  should  precede  her. 

"You  must  do  one  thing  for  me  before  you  leave/' 
she  said.  "You  must  try  and  .secure  some  informa- 
tion from  the  boy  who  attended  us  upon  our  arrival 
as  to  how  I  shall  get  across  the  lake." 

"I  will,"  said  Sallie,  "but  I  do  so  dislike  to  leave 
you.  There  is  great  danger  in  your  being  alone." 

"Don't  fear,"  was  Purcey 's  reply ;  and  she  gave 
a  smile  of  assurance  to  Sallie  that  somewhat  allayed 
her  fears.  "  I  will  reach  those  shores,"  and  she  pointed 
in  direction  of  Canada,  "or  die  in  the  attempt."  As 
she  gave  utterance  to  these  words,  her  beautiful  face 
colored  a  crimson  hue,  and  her  eyes  flashed  like  fire. 

The  following  day,  Sallie  got  the  boy  to  the  room 
under  pretense  of  having  him  wait  upon  her.  From 


ACROSS    THE    LINE.  233 

him  she  ascertained  that  a  station  of  the  Underground 
Railroad  was  located  within  a  few  miles  of  the  town, 
and  if  Purcey  could  reach  that  point,  she  would  have 
no  difficulty  in  getting  across  the  lake. 

When  Purcey  heard  this,  she  was  delighted.  She 
knew  what  the  Underground  Railroad  was,  and  she 
felt  that  she  would  be  safely  conducted  to  freedom 
through  its  agency.  The  boy  gave  her  the  necessary 
instructions  how  to  reach  it,  and  bidding  Sallie  fare- 
well, directing  her  to  look  for  her  on  the  following 
day,  Purcey  retired  to  her  room  with  her  child.  Sal- 
lie  informed  the  landlord  that  she  would  return  for 
her  servant  in  a  few  days.  Having  been  duly  paid 
in  advance  for  their  board,  that  worthy  gave  himself 
no  concern  as  to  whether  she  returned  or  not  within 
the  specified  time. 

Purcey  retired  to  the  little  room  lately  occupied 
by  her  friend,  and  from  the  window  watched  the 
stage  until  it  disappeared  from  sight.  Turning  from 
the  window,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  man  standing 
directly  under  it,  peering  up  in  her  face.  As 
soon  as  she  discovered  the  man,  a  feeling  of  fear 
overcame  her ;  she  soon  recalled  to  her  mind  where 
she  had  seen  that  face  before.  There  were  the  little, 
ferret-like  eyes,  the  beardless  face,  the  shabby-genteel 
hat,  the  threadbare  clothing,  and  the  suave  smile  of 
Mr.  Jamison,  whom  she  had  seen  on  the  train. 

Jamison  recognized  her  at  a  glance,  and  as  he  did 
so,  he  slapped  his  knee  with  his  hand,  saying : 

"Well — ah — by  Jove  !  that's  the  gal  that  gave  us 


234  BOND   AND    FREE. 

the  slip.  Oh,  if  Sledger  was  only  here!"  But  Sled- 
ger  was  not  there,  he  having  returned  South  with 
some  slaves  whom  he  had  claimed  as  his  own,  proving 
them  by  fictitious  papers  prepared  by  Jamison,  who 
was  now  traveling  about,  earning  a  penny  anywhere 
and  any  way  he  could.  He  had  no  thought  of  ever 
seeing  Purcey  again,  and  was  now  greatly  surprised. 

He  did  not  know  where  Sallie  was,  not  having 
seen  her  take  her  departure,  but  he  could  find  out 
something  about  them  by  inquiring  at  the  tavern. 
Entering  the  tavern,  he  sought  the  landlord  and 
learned  from  him  of  Sallie's  departure  and  her  inten 
tion  to  return  in  a  couple  of  days,  which,  of  course, 
left  Purcey  alone. 

Now,  Mr.  Jamison  was  not  a  brave  man,  but  he 
was  a  shrewd  one,  and  he  quickly  concluded  that  if 
he  could  gain  possession  of  Purcey  and  spirit  her 
away  before  Sallie's  return,  he  could  make  a  profit- 
able speculation  on  his  own  hook.  He  decided  to 
watch  her  movements  and  to  take  advantage  of  the 
first  opportunity  to  kidnap  her.  He  could  find  ready 
hands  to  assist  him  in  this  business,  and  he  lost  no 
time  in  securing  them. 

Purcey  knew  the  man  had  recognized  her,  and  she 
became  greatly  alarmed ;  she  did  not  leave  her  room, 
but  waited  patiently  for  darkness,  intending  to  start 
for  the  place  to  which  she  had  been  directed,  where 
she  would  find  assistance  in  crossing  the  lake.  She 
thought  of  employing  the  negro  boy  to  escort  her; 
then  she  feared  compromising  him.  The  directions 


ACROSS   THE    LINE.  235 

given  her  led  her  over  an  unfrequented  path  through 
a  lonely  woods,  but  the  course  was  so  direct,  she  felt 
confident  that  she  would  not  be  lost.  Knowing 
nothing  of  the  country  and  attempting  such  a  haz- 
ardous thing  without  a  guide  caused  her  to  hesitate, 
but  she  feared  that  if  she  remained  about  the  tavern 
too  long,  the  man  whom  she  had  seen  might  attack 
her,  and,  now  that  Sallie  was  gone,  take  her  back. 

The  sun  had  not  buried  itself  behind  the  western 
hills  many  hours  before  Purcey.  leading  her  child  by 
the  hand,  stole  quietly  from  a  rear  door  of  the  tavern, 
passed  through  the  stable-yard  unnoticed,  and  made 
directly  for  a  piece  of  woods  some  distance  beyond. 
She  had  gotten  but  a  short  distance,  when  two  men 
started  in  pursuit  of  her.  The  men  did  not  try  to 
overtake  her,  but  kept  her  in  sight  and  endeavored 
to  keep  from  being  seen.  Eeaching  the  woods, 
Purcey  stopped,  fastened  her  dress  up  around  her 
waist,  lifted  her  child  upon  her  back,  and  started 
off  on  a  brisk  trot.  She  traveled  for  some  distance 
this  way,  until  she  became  fatigued.  Stopping  to 
rest,  she  heard  the  rapid  approach  of  footsteps.  The 
moon  was  now  shining  brightly,  shedding  its  pale  light 
over  field  and  forest,  and  aiding  this  plucky  young 
woman  along  her  course. 

The  zephyr-like  breeze  gently  stirred  the  leaves,  and 
the  notes  of  the  katydids  and  crickets  went  up  clear 
and  distinct  in  the  otherwise  silent  night.  She  was  not 
mistaken  ;  rapidly  were  footsteps  approaching.  She 
grasped  the  child  and  started  again;  on,  on,  she  rushed, 


236  BOND    AND    FREE. 

over  briers  and  bushes.  She  had  struck  the  right  path, 
and  she  followed  it  without  deviation.  The  bushes 
would  catch  her  skirts,  but  she  tarried  not  for  this,  nor 
did  she  stop  to  look  around ;  for  she  knew  that  she  was 
being  pursued,  and  she  must  elude  her  pursuers.  On 
she  rushed,  her  heart  set  upon  gaining  liberty  for  her- 
self and  child.  She  did  not  for  a  moment  stop  to 
think  of  husbanding  her  strength  in  case  of  being 
overtaken,  but  kept  madly  on.  Her  limbs  soon  be- 
gan to  weaken,  her  gait  slacken,  and  she  heard  the 
voices  of  men.  Looking  around,  she  beheld  two  men 
approaching  her ;  one  of  them  was  Jamison.  She  saw 
now  it  was  useless  to  fly,  so  she  determined  to  make 
a  fight.  Liberty  was  a  precious  boon,  and  if  she 
could  not  enjoy  that,  then  she  preferred  death. 
Placing  her  child  upon  the  ground,  and  standing  be- 
tween it  and  the  two  men,  who  were  now  within  a 
few  yards  of  her,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven  and 
exclaimed :  "Oh  God,  Almighty  Father,  protect  me 
with  Thy  strong  arm !  " 

The  child  clung  to  her  dress,  and  looked  innocently 
into  her  face.  She  stooped  and  kissed  it,  and  it  smiled. 
The  smile  gave  her  courage,  for  she  realized  that  two 
lives  must  be  protected,  the  one  even  dearer  than  her 
own.  From  her  pocket  she  drew  forth  her  master's 
silver-mounted  pistol,  and  awaited  the  approach  of 
the  men.  Mr.  Jamison  got  within  a  few  feet  of  her, 
when  she  leveled  the  weapon  at  him,  and  commanded 
him  to  halt,  which  he  did,  falling  in  the  rear  of  his 


ACROSS   THE    LINE.  237 

companion.  Being  now  in  a  safer  position,  he  cried 
out: 

"  Put  that  toy  away,  my  dear ;  you  might  hurt  some- 
body." 

"That's  my  intention,"  replied  Purcey.  "What 
are  you  following  me  for?  " 

"  Well,  ah,"  said  Jamison,  "  a  fellow  can't  talk  look- 
ing down  the  muzzle  of  a  thing  like  that. " 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  demanded  the  woman. 

Jamison  now  directed  his  companion  to  speak. 

"  I  am  a  constable,  and  have  authority  to  arrest 
you.  Put  down  that  pistol,  or  I  will  shoot  you."  As 
he  said  this,  he  attempted  to  raise  his  arm,  when  Pur- 
cey quickly  exclaimed  : 

"  Move  an  inch,  and  I  will  blow  your  brains  out." 
Continuing,  she  said:  "  Gentlemen,  I  don't  intend  to 
be  arrested,  and  I  command  you  to  leave  me.  I 
will  give  you  one  minute."  She  kept  her  eye  upon 
them,  and  the  pistol  in  position. 

The  child  had  been  clinging  to  her  dress.  Grow- 
ing frightened,  he  began  to  cry,  and,  consequently, 
diverted  her  attention.  Fearing  that  he  would  get 
away  from  her,  she  reached  for  him,  and  as  she  did 
so,  Jamison  exclaimed : 

"  At  her,  Canby  !  " 

Canby  sprang  forward,  and  immediately  the  report 
of  a  pistol,  mingled  with  the  music  of  the  katydids 
and  crickets  and  the  groans  of  Canby,  sounded  upon 
the  still  night  air.  Another  report  rang  out,  and  the 
form  of  Jamison  could  be  seen  making  a  serpentine 


238  BOND   AND    FREE. 

winding  in  and  out  from  behind  the  trees.  He  did 
not  stop  to  see  whether  his  companion  was  dead  or 
alive.  Canby  was  seriously,  but  not  fatally,  wounded, 
and  lay  upon  the  ground  perfectly  helpless. 

Seizing  her  child  again,  the  woman  swung  him 
upon  her  back,  and  fairly  flew  through  thicket  and 
brush,  over  fences,  and  across  ditches.  She  ran  as 
though  pursued  by  a  legion  of  demons.  Not  once 
did  she  slacken  her  speed,  until  she  came  in  sight  of 
a  little  log  hut,  whose  outlines  could  be  distinctly 
discerned  in  the  moonlight.  She  hurriedly  gave  the 
signal  which  had  been  given  her,  and  presently  a  man 
made  his  appearance  at  the  door,  waving  a  lantern 
around  his  head  three  times.  She  advanced  cau- 
tiously toward  the  house,  and,  upon  reaching  it,  was 
conducted  inside.  Being  overcome  by  the  weight  of 
the  child  and  the  exciting  chase  she  had  had,  she 
sank  almost  lifeless  upon  the  floor.  Kind  hands  soon 
brought  her  back  to  consciousness,  when  she  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  continue  her  journey  at  once.  A 
guide  conducted  her  in  a  circuitous  route  to  the  lake, 
where  they  embarked  in  a  small  boat,  and  were  soon 
out  upon  the  waters.  She  felt  that  she  was  now  al- 
most a  free  woman. 

In  a  short  time,  the  boat  grated  upon  the  Canadian 
shore ;  and  scarcely  waiting  for  it  to  be  landed  upon 
the  dry  beach,  she  seized  her  child  and  sprang  ashore. 
Falling  upon  her  knees,  she  thanked  Grod  for  her 
safe  delivery.  She  cried,  she  prayed.  She  shouted 
and  sung  by  turns.  Grasping  her  child  in  her  arms, 


ACROSS   THE    LINE.  239 

she  pressed  it  to  her  bosom  and  covered  its  brow  with 
kisses.  Then  she  prayed  for  her  mother  and  husband. 
The  one  was  beyond  the  reach  of  her  prayers,  and  the 
other  was  almost,  at  that  moment,  plunging  into  a 
deeper  slavery  than  he  had  ever  yet  known. 

Sallie  was  found,  and  when  the  two  women  met, 
there  was  a  joyful  time.  Purcey  felt  under  many 
obligations  to  her  friend,  and  was  profuse  in  her 
thanks.  Together  they  set  about  to  perfect  arrange- 
ments to  communicate  with  Purcey 's  husband,  and, 
if  possible,  secure  his  freedom.  It  was  found  a  diffi- 
cult matter  to  decide  what  steps  to  take  to  obtain 
this  end,  as  letters  would  avail  nothing,  and  a  visit 
by  Sallie  to  the  old  home  would  probably  be  attended 
with  great  danger.  Purcey  believed  that  William 
would  follow  her  by  escaping  at  the  first  opportunity, 
and  concluded  to  trust  in  Providence  and  await  his 
coming.  Securing  for  herself  and  child  a  home,  she 
settled  down  in  the  expectation  of  seeing  him  soon. 
Sallie  obtained  a  profitable  situation,  and  the  com- 
panionship between  them  remained  fast  and  firm. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOK  FREEDOM. 

The  cavalcade,  consisting  of  horses,  wagons,  drivers, 
and  negroes,  behind  which  Jass  Lillie  rode,  made 
rapid  progress  on  its  way  southward.  Lillie  viewed 
with  complacency  and  satisfaction  the  rich  specula- 
tion and  the  magnificent  bargains  he  had  made  in 
his  purchase.  It  was  his  custom  to  reach  a  town,  if 
possible,  by  night,  where  a  jail  was  located,  in  order 
to  place  his  herd  safely  under  lock  and  key.  He  had 
two  reasons  for  doing  this :  first,  entire  safety  against 
any  of  them  running  away  was  guaranteed ;  second, 
it  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  seek  a  tavern  and  in- 
dulge in  that  popular  Southern  game  of  draw-poker, 
undisturbed  by  thoughts  of  his  herd  being  quartered 
in  a  field  and  the  chances  of  any  of  them  escaping. 
He  was  making  as  direct  for  Georgia  as  he  could,  and 
had  gotten  well  down  into  the  southern  part  of  Vir- 
ginia without  any  unusual  mishap.  The  drivers 
were  being  urged  to  reach  the  borders  of  North  Car- 
olina just  as  rapidly  as  possible,  realizing  that  the 
farther  South  they  reached,  the  less  chance  was  there 
for  any  to  escape. 

The  women  and  children  in  the  wagons  got  along 
well  enough,  so  far  as  being  relieved  of  the  hardships 
of  traveling  by  foot  was  concerned.  The  men  were 

[240] 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.         241 

greatly  fatigued,  wearied,  and  foot-sore.  The  mana- 
cles about  their  wrists  and  the  chains  to  which  they 
were  attached  had  caused  their  limbs  to  become 
swollen  and  painful.  No  matter  whether  the  horses 
went  fast  or  slow,  these  people,  being  attached  to  the 
wagon,  were  consequently  dragged  along  over  the 
rough  roads.  William  was  accustomed  to  hardships ; 
he  came  from  a  cruel,  heartless  master ;  his  back  at- 
tested, by  the  many  marks  upon  it,  that  the  bull-whip 
was  no  new  thing  to  him.  He  had  been  struck  down 
like  an  ox  and  beaten  until  he  could  not  stand ;  but 
he  was  now  experiencing  a  hardship  to  which  he  was 
quite  unaccustomed.  When  he  was  sold  by  Judge 
Coleman  to  Lillie,  he  was  not  burdened  with  an  ex- 
tensive wardrobe.  If  such  had  been  the  case,  Lillie 
would  have  relieved  him,  for  in  that  worthy's  esti- 
mation, one  of  the  most  useless  things  to  a  negro  was 
a  wardrobe.  Sufficient  clothing  to  cover  nakedness 
was  all  he  permitted  to  negroes  under  his  paternal 
care,  whether  male  or  female.  The  wear  and  tear 
upon  the  clothes  of  the  men  had  reduced  nearly  all 
of  them  to  a  state  of  nudity. 

William's  shoes  had  completely  parted  company 
with  his  feet,  which  were  cut,  bruised,  and  swollen : 
and  as  he  sat  with  his  back  against  the  cold  stone 
wall  of  the  prison,  where  Lillie  had  incarcerated  them 
for  the  night,  it  took  all  of  the  manhood  he  had  to 
conceal  from  those  around  him  the  tears  which  tried 
to  force  their  way  from  his  eyes.  His  thoughts  wan- 
dered back  to  his  former  home,  to  the  sad  separation 

16 


242  BOND    AND    FREE. 

from  his  wife  and  child.  He  thought  of  how  he  had 
left  her  lying  prostrate  upon  the  floor,  and  the  last 
message  he  left  for  her,  that  he  would  escape  the  first 
chance  he  got.  Where  were  that  wife  and  child  now  ? 
Were  they  still  in  bondage,  or  had  they  escaped? 
While  sitting  there,  fatigued  in  body,  foot-sore,  and 
sick  at  heart,  with  the  ring  of  the  voices  of  his  fel- 
low-slaves, now  released  from  their  chains,  singing, 
patting  juba,  and  dancing,  having  not  a  care  or  a 
thought  of  their  .miserable  condition,  William  fell 
into  a  fitful  sleep. 

When  he  awoke,  he  gazed  about  in  a  dazed  man- 
ner, as  though  he  did  not  realize  where  he  was. 
He  had  been  dreaming,  and  in  that  dream  he  had 
seen  his  wife  and  child  make  their  escape  into  freedom. 
He  had  seen  them  pursued  by  the  "nigger-catchers'1 
and  bloodhounds,  but  they  seemed  to  be  borne  along 
upon  wings,  so  swiftly  did  they  fly  through  brush 
and  brier,  over  rocks  and  through  streams.  On  they 
sped,  until  a  great,  bright  light  rose  up  before  them. 
A  cloud  sailed  through  the  heavens,  then  it  slowly  de- 
scended to  earth,  between  them  and  their  pursuers. 
A  land  now  appeared  whose  shores  seemed  tinted 
with  a  golden  hue.  There,  standing  with  outstretched 
arms,  were  many  familiar  faces  beaming  with  smiles, 
who  seemed  to  await  them,  and  as  they  stepped  upon 
the  golden  shores,  the  air  resounded  with  joyous 
shouts. 

Like  most  slaves,  William  placed  great  confidence 
in  dreams.  There  was  no  picture  figured  in  the  brain 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.         243 

while  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus,  no  matter  how  fan- 
ciful, that  was  not  generally  subject  to  interpretation 
among  the  slaves.  They  had  no  dream-books,  but 
they  had  wonderful  memories  and  suggestive  imag- 
inations; and  every  dream,  whether  induced  by  an 
overloaded  stomach  or  restlessness  from  a  severe 
castigation,  had  its  meaning.  People  who  believe  in 
these  unaccountable  wanderings  of  the  mind  say  that 
dreams  are  contrary,  but  it  was  not  so  with  William. 
He  believed  the  dream  he  had  was  true ;  he  believed 
his  wife  and  child  were  either  in  a  free  land  or  were 
making  an  effort  to  reach  one.  That  the  dream  was 
a  revelation  to  him  from  an  unseen  power,  was  con- 
vincing to  his  untutored  and  superstitious  mind.  It 
caused  him  to  reflect,  and  reflection  caused  him  to 
act. 

Every  step  he  now  took  bore  him  farther  and  far- 
ther away.  The  hope  of  keeping  the  promise  made 
his  wife  began  to  grow  more  and  more  faint.  There 
was  no  time  to  lose,  for  if  he  ever  expected  to  escape, 
now  was  his  time.  He  did  not  know  the  exact  des- 
tination of  Lillie,  but  he  knew  that  they  were  bound 
for  the  South,  and  at  the  first  good  slave-market 
reached,  outside  the  boundaries  of  Virginia,  he  was 
as  liable  to  be  sold  as  any  of  the  rest.  That  they 
were  in  the  extreme  southern  portion  of  his  native 
State  he  was  aware ;  he  could  not,  however,  correctly 
judge  the  exact  time  when  the  line  would  be  crossed, 
but  felt  that  it  was  near.  In  this  conclusion,  he  was 
correct. 


244  BOND    AND   FREE. 

A  favorable  opportunity  to  escape,  as  well  as  an 
early  one,  was  now  his  only  hope.  Why  had  he  not 
acted  long  before  this — why  had  he  waited  until 
carried  miles  from  his  former  home  into  a  strange 
country,  of  which  he  knew  nothing?  William  had 
now  reached  that  point  where  he  found  it  necessary 
to  help  himself.  He  had  appealed  to  Heaven  for 
assistance,  but  had  made  no  effort  toward  putting  in- 
to operation  the  means  with  which  nature  had  pro- 
vided him.  A  courageous  heart,  strong  arms,  and 
stout  limbs  were  his ;  and  if  he  would  be  free,  if  he 
would  gaze  again  upon  his  loved  ones,  these  must  be 
put  to  use. 

From  his  present  confinement,  he  could  not  hope 
to  escape;  he  must  wait  until  they  again  encamped 
in  the  open  air.  The  sun  had  scarcely  risen  in  the 
track  of  the  receding  moon,  when  the  drivers  entered 
the  jail  and  began  preparations  for  another  hard 
day's  travel.  Women  and  children  were  tumbled 
unceremoniously  into  the  wagons,  and  the  men 
roughly  pushed  in  their  places,  Lillie's  drivers  were 
unusually  hilarious,  a  fact  which  made  them  still 
more  brutal,  and  it  was  evident  to  the  most  casual 
observer  that  they  had  been  indulging  freely  in  ap- 
ple-jack, or  something  equally  as  stimulating.  Every- 
thing now  being  in  readiness,  the  cavalcade  was  set 
in  motion.  The  horses  were  given  the  whip,  and  the 
wagons  rumbled  through  the  streets  of  the  sleepy 
town,  past  fields  and  plantations  in  which  poor  slaves 
were  laboring,  the  sun  not  yet  fully  risen.  They  had 


WILLIAM'S  STEIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.        245 

traveled  several  miles  at  rather  a  rapid  pace,  the 
horses  on  a  keen  jump  and  the  manacled  and  chained 
men  dragged  along  behind  the  wagon  with  the  same 
speed.  The  horses  were  finally  allowed  to  proceed 
slowly  in  order  that  Lillie,  who  had  been  left  behind, 
might  overtake  them.  The  sun  con  tinned,  to  creep 
higher  and  higher,  until  the  full  effulgence  of  its  rays 
beat  down  upon  the  earth.  The  hours  passed,  but 
still  Lillie  did  not  come. 

When  it  came  time  to  feed,  a  halt  was  made,  and 
while  some  of  the  negro  men  were  released  to  attend 
the  horses,  the  drivers  regaled  themselves  from  the 
well-filled  bottle  with  which  they  were  provided. 
Having  waited  a  considerable  length  of  time,  they 
were  now  in  a  quandary  what  to  do,  not  having  re- 
ceived orders  before  leaving.  They  concluded  that, 
as  they  were  enjoying  their  whisky  and  the  shade 'of 
some  friendly  trees,  they  could  wait.  The  wagons 
were  turned  out  of  the  road,  a  field  was  taken  pos- 
session of,  and  every  preparation  made  to  camp  for 
the  night.  One  of  the  drivers  approached  William 
and  said: 

"  Bill,  I  want  you  to  stand  guard  to-night  and  see 
that  none  of  these  niggers  git  away;  I  guess  I  can 
trust  you.'' 

William  saw  from  the  man's  actions  that  he  had 
been  imbibing  pretty  freely,  and  he  quickly  guessed 
the  reason  why  he  was  selected  to  do  guard  duty 
over  his  fellow-slaves,  for  not  one  of  the  drivers  was 


246  BOND    AND    FREE. 

in  a  fit  condition  to  keep  awake  an  hour,  so  overcome 
were  they  by  their  indulgence.  He  replied : 

"  Yes,  massa,  I'll  do  de  best  I  can,  but  won't  no- 
body else  help  me  ?" 

"  Help  you  !  What  in  the  h — 1  do  you  want  with 
help  ?  ^in't  they  all  chained  ?  HI  help  you  if  any- 
thing goes  wrong.  Help  you !  Ain't  I  here  ?  All 
you  got  to  do  is  watch  them  niggers  ;  I'll  look  out 
for  the  help." 

This  was  said  in  a  maudlin  voice,  and  he  reeled 
back  to  where  his  comrades  were  stretched  out  upon 
the  ground,  filling  the  air  with  ribald  songs  and 
drunken  laughter. 

Afar  off  in  the  west  could  be  seen  the  beautiful 
crimson  tint  of  the  sky,  the  sun  having  lowered  itself 
as  if  to  kiss  the  earth.  A  gray  mist  arose  in  the  dis- 
tance, presenting  the  appearance  of  a  veil  about  to 
conceal  from  the  eye  the  beauty  of  a  Southern  sun- 
set. 

William  stood  by  the  side  of  one  of  the  wagons 
and  began  to  think  whether,  at  last,  Providence  had 
not  heard  his  prayers.  But  where  was  Lillie  ?  When 
would  he  come,  and  how  long  would  he  be  left  free, 
at  least  free  from  his  manacles  ? 

While  thus  meditating,  his  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  woman  who  stepped  out  of  the  wagon  and  beck- 
oned to  him.  She  was  a  frightful-looking  creature, 
black  as  a  coal,  with  bleared  eyes,  long,  skinny  hands, 
pinched  features,  and  her  head  encased  in  a  fiery  red 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.        247 

bandanna  handkerchief,  but  she  was  perfectly  upright 
in  form  and  very  tall. 

He  did  not  approach  her,  but  she  came  to  him  and 
said  abruptly : 

"  Wah  you  from  ?  " 

William  told  her  without  hesitating. 

'•I'se  from  dis  bery  place  wah  we  am  now,"  said 
the  woman,  as  she  looked  in  the  direction  of  the  dri- 
vers. Drawing  close  to  him,  she  hissed  into  his  ear : 

"  You'se  a  fool." 

"  What  you  mean  ?"  said  William,  drawing  back 
from  her  suddenly. 

"What  I  mean?"  she  said,  and  ejaculated  "  Umph!" 

As  she  gave  utterance  to  this  sound,  she  displayed 
all  of  her  teeth.  Pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  dri- 
vers, who  had  now  fallen  into  a  drunken  sleep,  she 
continued. 

"  See  dem  ?  Go,  leab  ;  take  de  wings  ob  de  mornin', 
and  fly  to  freedom.  What  you  stay  har  for?  You 
want  to  go  Souf  wah  you  never  git  back  ?  Take  to 
de  mountains  yonder;  day  can't  git  dogs,  nobody 
knows  dem  har ;  besides,  dey  ain't  got  time  to  hunt 
you  noways." 

William  realized  the  force  of  the  woman's  logic, 
but  he  did  not  understand  her  interest  in  him,  so  he 
said,  with  an  incredulous  air: 

"  But  Mars  Lillie,  whar  is  he  ?  Suppose  he'd  ketch 
me?" 

u  Mars  Lillie  won't  be  har  to-night ;  and  if  he  does 
cotch  you,  you  won't  be  sold  no  furder  Soul  Didn't  I 


248  BOND   AND    FREE. 

hear  you  talkin'  in  yo'  sleep  'bout  yo'  wife  and 
child  ?  Fool,  would  you  stay  har  when  you  kin  go 
take  to  de  mountains  ?  I  tells  you  trust  to  de  Lord, 
He'll  guide  you.  Go,  I  tell  you,  for  Judah  she's  go- 
in'  now,"  and  her  eyes  gleamed  for  a  moment,  her 
teeth  glistened,  and  she  glided  noiselessly  into  the  fast- 
gathering  gloom. 

William  stood  almost  transfixed.  He  aroused 
himself  from  his  lethargy.  Glancing  in  the  direction 
of  the  drivers,  he  surmised  from  their  heavy  and  ir- 
regular breathing  that  they  were  sleeping  soundly. 
But  another  difficulty  confronted  him.  All  of  the 
men  over  whom  he  had  charge  were  within  sight,  and 
he  feared  that  to  start  with  their  knowledge  would 
lead  to  immediate  betrayal.  They  must  be  misled. 
Walking  over  to  them,  William  said: 

"Boys,  how  is  you  resting?" 

They  informed  him  that  they  were  resting  as  com- 
fortably as  possible  under  the  circumstances. 

"  I  wish,"  said  William,  "  that  I  could  relieb  you. 
I'se  goin'  down  the  road  a  piece  to  see  what  I  can  find 
to  eat.  If  I  git  somethin'  good,  we'll  all  have  a  treat. 
Keep  quiet,  and  don't  waken  the  bosses." 

William  had  touched  them  in  a  tender  place,  and 
a  promise  of  something  good  to  eat  bought  a  silence 
that  nothing  else  could  have  done.  Half  starved  and 
greatly  fatigued,  it  will  not  be  wondered  at  that  they 
bade  him  God-speed,  with  pleadings  to  hurry  back. 
He  would  have  set  them  all  at  liberty  had  he  dared, 
but  he  feared  for  his  own  safety  as  well  as  theirs. 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.         249 

Giving  them  a  parting  look,  lie  leaped  the  fence  nim- 
bly, and  was  soon  lost  to  sight  in  the  darkness.  He 
made  at  once  for  the  mountains  as  fast  as  his  legs 
would  carry  him. 

It  was  a  very  unusual  thing  for  Jasson  Lillie  to  do 
anything  indiscreet ;  he  was  a  cool-headed,  calculat- 
ing, business-like  "nigger-trader."  As  we  have  said, 
time  was  money  with  him,  and  money  was  his  god. 
It  did  not  matter  to  him  how  he  secured  it,  so  that  he 
got  it.  Speculation  was  his  stronghold,  and  he  would 
invest  wherever  he  thought  there  was  a  reasonable 
chance  to  win.  With  his  herd  of  negroes  safely 
quartered  within  the  hospitable  walls  of  a  prison, 
there  was  no  thought  to  disturb  his  prosaic  mind,  as 
he  took  a  friendly  hand  in  a  game  of  draw-poker 
with  a  number  of  gentlemen  of  his  profession,  at  the 
tavern  where  he  stopped.  The  game  grew  interest- 
ing, especially  to  Lillie,  as  he  was  playing  a  winning 
hand.  The  hours  of  the  night  passed  away  rapidly, 
and  when  the  morning  approached,  it.  found  him  still 
at  the  card-table.  Knowing ,  that  his  trusty  drivers 
would  proceed  on  their  journey,  he  continued  to  play 
until  he  had  successfully  broken  every  one  around  the 
table. 

Now  a  man  may  hate  to  lose  time,  and  he  may  have 
a  great  love  for  money  ;  but  there  are  certain  laws  of 
nature  which  are  inexorable,  and  when  they  lay  hold 
of  a  victim,  he  must  submit.  Lillie  had  been  riding 
all  day,  had  sat  at  the  card-table  all  night,  and,  in  the 
meantime,  had  absorbed  no  small  quantity  of  alco- 


250  BOND   AND    FKEE. 

bolic  spirits.  He  had  been  buoyed  up  bj  his  good 
luck  and  the  feeling  that  he  was  not  only  making 
money,  but  was  losing  no  time.  But  when  he  at- 
tempted to  start  to  overtake  his  cavalcade,  he  dis- 
covered that  nature  was  calling  upon  him  strongly  for 
repose.  He  submitted,  but  with  his  boots  on.  He 
reasoned  that  he  could  take  a  few  hours'  rest,  and, 
with  the  horse  he  had,  soon  overcome  the  distance 
they  might  have  gained  upon  him,  believing,  also, 
that  their  progress  would  be  somewhat  retarded  by 
his  absence. 

Leaving  orders  to  be  called  in  an  hour  or  two, 
Lillie  threw  himself  upon  a  bed  and  slept  soundly. 
By  some  means,  the  landlord  neglected  to  call  him, 
and  when  he  awoke,  the  sun  was  slowly  hiding  itself 
behind  the  western  hills.  Springing  to  his  feet,  he 
rubbed  his  eyes  and  rushed  into  the  bar-room,  which 
answered,  also,  as  an  office ;  and,  after  arraigning  the 
landlord  in  a  choice  selection  of  adjectives  for  his 
neglect,  ordered  his  horse,  and  set  out  to  overtake 
his  party.  He  rode  with  desperation  for  several  miles, 
until  the  trees,  hedges,  and  fences  by  the  road  side 
could  not  be  discerned,  owing  to  the  deep  gloom  which 
overspread  everything.  The  moon  was  was  at  times 
obscured.  Occasionally  it  would  come  forth,  for  a  very 
short  time,  from  behind  a  great  mass  of  clouds,  and 
relieve  the  inky  darkness  in  which  everything  was 
enveloped.  He  was  familiar  with  the  road,  but  the 
darkness  compelled  him  to  slacken  his  speed  and 
keep  a  sharp  look-out  for  the  camp,  which,  as  he 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.         251 

rightly  concluded,  owing  to  his  absence,  would  be 
pitched  in  some  field.  He  rode  thus  for  several 
hours,  his  eyes  wandering  alternately  from  one  side 
of  the  road  to  the  other.  His  horse  was  jogging 
along  at  a  gentle  pace,  when  suddenly  there  emerged 
from  a  piece  of  woods  which  skirted  the  road  the 
tall  form  of  a  woman.  She  crossed  the  road  directly 
in  front  of  the  horse,  and  waved  before  his  eyes  a 
large,  black  cloak.  Lillie  had  not  seen  this  seeming 
apparition  in  his  path,  but  when  his  horse  reared  upon 
his  hind  legs,  neighing  and  snorting  fiercely,  he  then 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  figure  with  gleaming  eyes  and 
glittering  teeth,  standing  directly  ahead  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

The  sudden  and  wild  plunging  of  the  frightened 
horse  taxed  him  to  keep  his  seat,  though  an  excel- 
lent horseman.  He  was  overcome  with  fright  him- 
self, and,  as  the  animal  made  a  sudden  wheel,  he  lost 
his  balance  and  fell  from  the  saddle^  his  spur  catch- 
ing in  the  stirrup.  The  horse  now  started  off  at  a 
break-neck  speed,  dragging  the  body  of  his  unfortu- 
nate master  over  the  road  to  a  terrible  death.  The 
mangled  form  of  Jasson  Lillie  was  found  by  the  road- 
side the  following  day,  stiff  and  stark  in  death. 

The  woman  who  had  been  the  cause  of  this  terri- 
ble catastrophe  was  no  less  a  person  than  Judah,  who 
had  induced  William  to  take  his  flight.  After  leav- 
ing him,  she,  by  a  circuitous  route,  reached  the  road, 
and  traveled  in  the  same  direction  whence  they  came. 
She  had  been  raised  in  the  neighborhood,  but  taken 


252  BOND    AXD    FEEE. 

into  the  northern  part  of  the  State  as  the  property  of 
her  young  master,  who  had  been  married,  thus  causing 
her  removal.  Becoming  uncontrollable,  she  was  sold 
to  the  traders,  and  was  being  taken  South  with  the 
balance  of  Lillie's  herd. 

Her  intention  was  to  run  away  when  she  left  Wil 
Ham  ;  but  in  order  to  avoid  possible  pursuit  and  cap- 
ture, she  determined  to  lie  in  wait  for  Lillie.  Believ- 
ing that  he  would  be  upon  the  road,  and  that  if  she 
waylaid  him  and  frightened  his  horse,  he,  probably 
giving  up  to  the  superstitious  fears  usually  held  by 
men  like  him,  would  not  make  an  effort  to  travel  any 
farther  that  night,  but  would  retrace  his  steps  to  the 
nearest  hospitable  roof.  How  well  she  succeeded,  and 
the  terrible  consequence  of  her  success,  we  know, 

William  put  a  great  many  miles  between  himself 
and  his  unsolicited  companions  before  daylight.  Con- 
cealing himself  in  a  dense  thicket  of  underbrush, 
sleep  came  unbidden  to  his  wearied  eyes.  The  sun 
was  high  in  the  heavens  when  he  awoke,  and  the  ex- 
cessive strain  upon  his  system  began  to  tell.  His 
limbs  were  sore  and  stiff,  his  feet  swollen,  and  hun- 
ger and  thirst  had  besieged  him.  He  dare  not  move 
from  his  place  of  concealment  until  after  night,  and 
the  pain  and  agony  he  suffered  in  those  few  hours 
can  hardly  be  described.  Those  hours  were  days  to 
him,  and  when  night  came  at  last,  and  shed  its  kindly 
folds  over  the  heavens,  he  dragged  his  pain-racked 
and  exhausted  body  to  an  open  space  carpeted  with 
soft,  green  turf.  He  looked  about,  undecided  in 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.        253 

what  direction  to  go.  Food  and  drink  were  the  first 
things  to  be  obtained,  but  where  was  he  to  find  them? 
In  a  strange  country,  not  familiar  with  an  inch  of 
the  ground,  foot-sore  and  wearied,  what  should  he 
do?  Crawling  upon  his  hands  and  knees  for  some 
distance,  he  heard  voices,  which  appeared  to  come 
from  a  piece  of  woods  directly  in  front  of  him.  Ele- 
vating his  body,  he  discerned  a  dim  light  shining 
through  the  trees ;  the  strains  of  music  struck  his 
ear;  the  merry  laugh  of  a  party  of  night  revelers 
was  heard,  and  he  judged  that  they  were  slaves  en- 
joying themselves  in  one  of  the  many  cabins  in  which 
the  country  abounded.  Creeping  nearer,  he  could 
hear  them  singing  and  dancing  to  the  time  of  the 
music ;  the  clapping  of  hands  and  shuffling  of  feet 
left  no  doubt  in  his  mind  as  to  the  character  of  the 
people.  A  song  with  the  following  lines  was  being 
loudly  sung,  while  the  dancers  appeared  to  be  trying 
their  utmost  to  break  through  the  floor : 

"  Hannah,  walk  out  in  de  flor  ; 

Wake  up,  Miss  Liza. 

Dance  it  like  you  did  befor ; 

Wake  up,  Miss  Liza. 

"  Watch  her  cut  de  pigeon-wing ; 

Wake  up,  Miss  Liza . 
All  you  darkeys  shout  and  sing ; 
Wake  up.  Miss  Liza. 

"  Gents  to  de  right  and  ladies  to  de  left ; 

Wake  up,  Miss  Liza. 
Everybody  do  thar  best; 
Wake  up,  Miss  Liza." 


254  BOND   AND    FREE. 

They  continued  in  this  strain  for  some  time,  com- 
posing line  after  line  as  they  danced,  until  every  one 
seemed  exhausted.  William  determined  to  apply  to 
the  occupants  for  assistance,  feeling  sure  that  they 
would  not  betray  or  refuse  him.  Dragging  his  body 
to  the  door,  he  rapped  softly.  In  a  twinkling,  the 
light  went  out,  and  there  was  a  rush  made  by  those 
inside  for  the  only  other  exit,  the  window.  He  at 
once  surmised  that  the  inmates  of  the  cabin  thought 
they  were  about  to  be  assailed  by  the  patrol,  and 
cried  out : 

"Friends,  friends,  it's  only  a  poor  runaway." 

A  nappy  head  was  poked  around  the  corner  of  the 
house,  and,  seeing  but  a  single  man  at  the  door,  it 
was  followed  by  the  burly  form  of  a  coal-black  man, 
who  approached  the  crouching  form  of  William  and 
said: 

"  Look  har,  stranger,  you  come  mighty  near  being 
squashed,  does  you  know  it  ?  What  you  doing  har  ?  " 

By  this  time,  the  door  was  opened  and  a  light 
made,  and  the  frightened  revelers  were  summoned 
back.  William  aroused  much  sympathy  by  the 
earnestness  with  which  he  appealed  to  them  for  food 
and  shelter.  The  man  who  had  'first  addressed  him 
said  : 

"  Wai,  brudder,  dis  am  a  little  dangerous  procality 
fur  you.  We  can  gib  you  somethin'  to  eat,  but  you'd 
better  take  to  de  mountiris  at  once,  or  de  traders 
might  kotch  you  agin." 

William  entered  the  cabin,  notwithstanding  this 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM         255 

piece  of  advice,  and  seated  himself  in  a  corner,  when 
plenty  of  food  was  given  him.  The  singing  and 
dancing  was  resumed  again  as  boisterously  as  before. 

It  was  a  curious  assembly  he  looked  upon,  but  like 
many  he  had  seen  before.  The  women  were  dressed 
in  fantastic  costumes;  bare  black  feet  peeped  out 
from  beneath  silk  skirts,  and  many  of  them  had  their 
heads  encased  in  bandana  handkerchiefs.  The  men 
wore  swallow- tailed  and  very  long  frock  coats. 
Several  of  them  were  coatless,  vestless,  and  shoeless ; 
their  enjoyments,  however,  were  simple,  pure,  and 
extremely  vigorous,  every  one  being  bent  upon 
pleasure,  and  utterly  regardless  of  the  hard  day's 
labor  in  the  fields  that  awaited  them  the  following 
day. 

Having  finished  the  meal  set  before  him,  and  stow- 
ing away  in  his  bosom  the  remnants,  William  was 
directed  to  the  mountains.  Bidding  his  entertain- 
ers farewell,  he  started  northward,  taking  for  his  bea- 
con light  that  luminary  which  has  been  the  guide  to 
many  a  runaway — the  north  star.  Gruided  by  this 
silent  conductor,  and  shielded  by  the  friendly  con- 
fines of  the  Blue  Ridge  mountains,  he  proceeded  on 
his  way.  His  progress  was  slow,  owing  to  his  crip- 
pled condition,  but,  fired  with  the  desire  to  gain  free- 
dom, everything  else  seemed  subordinated  to  this 
thought  The  food  with  which  he  had  provided  him- 
self had  become  exhausted,  and  he  feared  to  leave  the 
mountain  to  search  for  more ;  and  for  several  days,  un- 
til he  had  passed  through  Maryland  and  entered  Penn- 


256  BOND    AND    FREE. 

sylvania,  he  subsisted  almost  entirely  upon  nuts, 
herbs,  berries,  and  such  things  as  he  found  in  the 
mountains. 

He  entered  Pennsylvania,  although  unaware  of  the 
fact,  but,  as  if  by  instinct,  he  felt  that  he  was  out  of 
the  slave  States ;  and  as  he  lay  concealed  during  the 
day,  the  soil  appeared  different,  the  foliage  seemed 
brighter,  the  song  of  the  birds  was  more  joyous,  and 
everything  appeared  changed.  It  was,  indeed,  a 
grand  transformation  scene,  and  he  enjoyed  it  im- 
measurably. He  could  not  sleep  or  keep  quiet,  so 
anxious  was  he  to  learn  where  he  was.  Giving  away 
to  his  desires,  he  crept  from  his  concealment,  and 
sought  for  some  place  where  he  could  obtain  infor- 
mation. As  he  was  surrounded  by  so  much  uncer- 
tainty, caution  was  necessarily  required,  and  his  move- 
ments were  attended  with  the  greatest  precaution. 
He  had  not  proceeded  far  when,  almost  directly  above 
him,  projecting  out  upon  the  ledge  of  a  rocky  foun- 
dation, was  one  of  those  Dutch  cabins  peculiar  to 
Pennsylvania.  Two  or  three  children  played  in 
dangerous  proximity  to  the  brink  of  the  rock,  while 
a  buxom  female  was  busily  engaged  in  baking  bread 
in  an  old  Dutch  oven.  The  smell  of  the  fresh  baked 
bread  caused  William,  for  a  time,  to  forget  that  he 
was  a  fugitive,  and,  clambering  the  rocky  incline,  he 
walked  boldly  toward  the  woman. 

Noticing  his  approach,  she  showed  no  fear,  but 
saluted  him  cordially,  rightly  concluding  that  he  was 
a  runaway.  She  scanned  him  closely  for  a  moment 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.        257 

before  asking  him  from  where  he  was,  first  apparently 
satisfying  herself  as  to  her  conjecture.  When  she  in- 
quired of  him,  he  hardly  knew  how  to  answer,  for, 
to  tell  the  truth,  he  did  not  really  know  where  he 
was  from.  Notwithstanding  the  woman  was  of  his 
own  race,  he  feared  to  let  her  know  that  he  was  a 
runaway,  so,  evading  the  question,  he  said : 

"  I  hab  lost  my  way,  and  am  awful  hungry.  Would 
you  gib  me  somethin'  to  eat,  and  tell  me  whar  to  find 
the  turnpike  ?  " 

The  woman  did  not  press  her  question,  but  invited 
him  into  the  house.  Having  seated  him  at  the  table, 
she  gave  him  a  bountiful  supply  of  food,  to  which  he 
did  ample  justice.  While  he  was  engaged  at  eating, 
the  woman  said : 

u  You'se  a  runaway,  ain't  you?  " 

William  pretended  not  to  hear  her. 

"  If  you  is,"  she  continued,  "  my  husband  kin  show 
you  just  whar  to  go  to  strike  de  road  for  Canada." 

He  looked  up  at  the  woman,  and  inquired : 
"  Whar's  your  husband  ?  " 

''He'll  be  here  presently,"  she  replied.  "Just 
make  yoself  at  home,  chile,  cause  I  know  from  yo' 
looks  you'se  tired,  and  mighty  nigh  worn  out" 

The  woman's  apparent  kindness  disarmed  him  of 
all  suspicion,  and  he  confidingly  told  her  of  his  es- 
cape, and  the  privations  he  had  suffered  in  reaching 
the  present  point ;  he  also  told  her  of  his  desire  to 
reach  Canada  to  find  his  wife  and  child,  whom,  he 
believed,  had  gone  before  him.  The  woman  was  at- 

1T 


258  BOND    AND    FKEE. 

tentively  listening  to  William's  narrative,  when  a  man 
entered  the  door.  He  was  a  powerfully  built  specimen 
of  humanity,  of  a  mulatto  complexion,  straight,  black 
hair,  low,  receding  forehead,  eyes  of  a  grayish  cast, 
a  wide  mouth,  drawn  down  at  the  corners,  as  though  al- 
ways sneering,  and  exposing  to  view  two  very  large 
teeth.  When  William  heard  footsteps,  he  looked 
around.  He  was  not  pleased  with  the  appearance  of 
the  man  who  stood  between  him  and  the  door,  with 
anything  but  welcome  depicted  upon  his  countenance. 

William  spoke,  and  the  woman  said  :  'k  Dis  is  my 
husband."  Turning  to  the  man,  she  continued : 
"  Hawkins,  dis  man  is  on  de  road  to  Canada,  and  I 
told  him  dat  you  was  just  de  one  to  guide  him." 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  man,  who  appeared  to  be 
possessed  of  more  than  the  average  intelligence  of 
his  race.  "I  have  been  in  these  mountains  many  a 
day,  and  showed  many  a  man  and  woman  the  road 
to  freedom.  Where  you  from?  "  he  said,  addressing 
William. 

He  had  confided  in  the  woman,  but  did  not  care 
to  enlighten  the  man.  However,  he  could  see  no 
other  alternative,  and  told  him  that  he  had  run  away 
from  the  traders,  and  where  he  had  left  them.  The 
man  looked  greatly  surprised  when  William  told  him 
where  he  was  from.  Uttering  a  long,  low  whistle, 
he  said : 

"Why,  man,  you're  many  a  mile  from  that  place; 
you're  now  in  Pennsylvania,  and  I  guess  they  have 
given  up  looking  for  you  by  this  time.  I'll  help 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.        259 

you  to  get  to  Canada;  it's  only  a  few  miles  from  here 
to  the  turnpike,  and  to-night  I'll  put  you  on  the 
road.  You  stay  here  until  I  return,  and  then  we'll 
start.  Miama,"  he  said,  addressing  his  wife,  "give 
this  poor  man  a  pair  of  old  shoes ;  he  is  almost  bare- 
footed." 

With  this  instruction,  he  left  the  house  before 
William  could  return  thanks  for  his  apparent  kind- 
ness. The  woman  procured  a  pair  of  shoes,  which 
were,  indeed,  acceptable  to  him,  although  they  fitted 
him  rather  loosely.  Having  been  frequently  informed 
that  there  were  a  great  many  betrayers  of  fugitives 
among  his  own  race,  William  did  not  trust  Hawkins 
implicitly.  Why  had  he  gone  away — why  did  he 
want  him  to  await  his  return  ?  If  the  man  was  in- 
terested in  his  escape,  surely  he  would  not  have  left 
him  without  giving  some  reason.  Had  he  gone  to 
procure  assistance  to  capture  him,  or  had  he  gone  for 
a  team  to' drive  to  the  turnpike?  Perhaps  his  wife 
could  throw  some  light  upon  this.  The  hearty  meal 
he  had  eaten  gave  him  renewed  vigor,  and  he  felt  like 
a  new  man.  Knowing  that  he  was  now  in  a  free  State, 
he  determined  never  to  return  South  as  a  bondman. 
The  woman  was  busily  engaged  preparing  the  chil- 
dren for  bed.  He  said,  addressing  her  rather  abruptly: 

''  Whar's  yo'  husband  gone?  " 

"I  don't  know,  chile,  but  he'll  be  back  soon." 

il  Many  folks  lib  'bout  here  ?  "  asked  William. 

"  Not  many  bar  in  de  mountain,  but  dar's  a  village 


260  BOND   AND    FREE. 

'bout  free  miles  from  har,  and  you  hab  to  pass  fru 
dat  on  de  way  to  de  pike,"  was  the  woman's  reply. 

"Am  thar  any  danger  in  that?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  woman ;  "  not  if  you  goes  with 
Hawkins,  'cause  all  de  white  folks  knows  him,  and 
dey  kinder  'spects  him." 

Now,  William  quickly  concluded  that  if  Hawkins 
was  a  betrayer,  his  wife  did  not  know  it ;  and  he  was 
right.  When  the  man  Hawkins  left  William,  he 
went  directly  to  the  village,  and  informed  several 
white  men  that  there  was  a  runaway  at  his  house ; 
that  he  was  going  to  bring  him  through  the  village 
at  a  certain  hour,  and  they  were  to  make  a  pretended 
attack,  when  he  would  have  the  man  under  the  in- 
fluence of  liquor,  and  he  could  be  easily  captured. 
Hawkins  then  procured  some  liquor,  and  returned 
home,  where  he  found  William  awaiting  him. 

"Now,  young  man,"  he  said,  "git  ready,  and  we'll 
start ;  but  before  we  go,  you  want  some  of  this  to 
brace  your  nerves,"  and  he  produced  the  bottle  of 
liquor.  William  waved  his  hand,  saying: 

"  No,  sar ;  none  of  that  stuff  for  me.  My  nerbes 
will  stand  braced  if  this  am  clear,"  and  he  tapped  his 
head  with  his  finger. 

"You  see,"  said  Hawkins,  "we've  got  to  pass 
through  the  village  down  here,  and  there's  alwa}^s 
lots  of  loafers  about,  and  they  might  attack  us ;  so 
you  had  better  take  a  little."  Turning  the  bottle  up 
to  his  mouth,  he  took  a  long  draught.  Again  offer- 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.        261 

ing  it  to  William,  "  Better  take  some,"  tie  said,  with 
a  grin. 

"  No,"  said  William,  "  I  don't  want  it.  If  I'se  got 
to  fight,  that  won't  gib  me  strength,  for  that  not  only 
steals  away  the  strength,  but  the  senses ;  and  if  goin' 
fru  that  village  am  the  only  road  to  Canada,  then  I'se 
goin'  fru  it  by  the  aid  of  God  and  these,"  and  he 
held  out  his  horny  hands. 

"That's  what  I  like  to  see,"  replied  Hawkins 
"pluck.  Come  on  now,  let's  go." 

They  left  the  house  and  plunged  into  the  woods, 
William  insisting  on  Hawkins  walking  in  front 
When  they  had  gotten  some  distance,  he  turned  to 
William,  and  inquired  if  he  had  any  fire-arms. 

"No,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  I  have  some  for  you."  He  walked  a  short 
distance  ahead  to  a  tree,  and,  from  among  some  brush, 
drew  forth  two  pistols,  and  handed  one  to  William, 
saying,  as  he  did  so :  "  Now  defend  yourself. " 

"I'll  do  that,"  answered  William;  "  but  does  this 
thing  go  off?" 

"  Of  course  it  does ;  but  put  it  in  your  pocket,  and 
don't  use  it  if  you  can  help  it." 

William  obeyed,  and  thought  to  himself  "  He  don't 
know  I  am  ten  men  now  in  place  of  one."  Hawkins, 
when  he  handed  him  the  pistol,  did  not  intend  to 
give  him  a  loaded  one,  but  he  did.  The  pistol  he 
kept  for  himself  was  empty,  a  fact  he  did  not  discover 
for  some  time  after.  When  they  were  pretty  close  to 
the  village,  William  halted  and  said  : 


262  BOND   AND    FREE. 

"  See  bar,  my  friend,  can't  we  git  round  this  town  ?" 

"  We  can,"  said  Hawkins,  "  but  it's  too  far." 

"  Oh,  neber  mind  that.  I  don't  car  for  the  distance. 
You  needn't  go  ;  just  tell  me.  I  don't  car  'bout  goin' 
fru  that  town,  sumthin'  tells  me  thar's  trouble  ahead, 
and  trouble  ain't  what  I'se  on  the  sarch  fur." 

"  We'll  get  through  all  right ;  don't  be  afraid. 
Come  on,"  and  Hawkins  started  off. 

"  Hold  on  thar,"  said  William.  i;  Stranger,  you'se 
been  mighty  accommodatin',  but  I  won't  trouble  you 
fudder.  S'pose  you  return  home  and  let  me  git 
round  the  town  alone." 

"  Oh,  no.  That  won't  do,"  said  Hawkins,  shaking 
his  head,  and  beginning  to  fear  that  William  sus- 
pected him.  "You  don't  think  I'd  fool  you,  do 
you?" 

"  Wall,  to  tell  the  truf,  that's  just  what  I  think," 
was  the  laconic  reply. 

"  You  do,  hey  ?  Then  I  arrest  you  as  a  runaway," 
and  as  Hawkins  said  this,  he  attempted  to  draw  his 
pistol,  but  William  was  too  quick  for  him.  Draw- 
ing his  quickly,  he  said  : 

11  No  foolin'  wid  that  thing,  stranger.  Don't  draw 
it,  or  this  will  go  off." 

Hawkins  laughed  loudly,  and  replied  : 

"Why,  you  fool,  that  thing  ain't  loaded." 

They  were  now  standing  face  to  face,  and  Wil- 
liam began  to  back  away.  Hawkins  called  upon  him 
to  halt,  but  he  only  laughed  contemptuously. 

"  Stand,  I  tell  you,"  said  Hawkins.    William  con- 


WILLIAM'S  STRIKE  FOR  FREEDOM.         263 

tinued  to  move;  Hawkins  now  advanced  upon  him, 
drawing  bis  pistol  quickly,  he  leveled  it  and  pulled 
the  trigger,  but  it  only  snapped.  William  snapped 
his  almost  at  the  same  instant,  but  with  s  very  differ- 
ent result.  '  A  report  rang  out  upon  the  night  air,  a 
curse  and  a  groan  escaped  from  the  lips  of  Hawkins, 
and  he  sank  upon  the  ground.  Not  waiting  to  see 
what  damage  he  had  done,  he  made  for  the  woods, 
and  traveled  the  balance  of  the  night,  never  stopping 
for  a  moment,  until  broad  daylight  the  next  day. 
Hawkins  was  slightly  wounded,  but  so  much  so  that 
it  was  some  time  before  he  reached  the  village — too 
late,  however,  to  organize  a  searching  party. 

Like  most  fugitives,  William  feared  recapture ;  but 
knowing  that  he  was  in  a  free  State,  he  determined 
to  seek  aid  in  reaching  his  family.  He  had  safely 
eluded  Hawkins  and  his  colleagues,  but  he  realized 
that  he  must  find  some  one  that  he  could  trust.  He 
had  successfully  procured  food  by  making  nocturnal 
visits  to  spring-houses  as  he  traveled  through  the 
country,  but  he  now  determined  to  enter  a  town, 
change  his  name,  seek  employment,  obtain  whatever 
information  he  could,  and,  if  possible,  earn  sufficient 
means  to  aid  him  in  his  search  for  his  wife  and  child. 
He  did  not  know  what  distance  he  had  to  travel  to 
reach  Canada.  Whether  it  was  a  hundred  or  a  thou- 
sand miles  was  a  problem  that  he  was  unable  to 
solve,  but  that  such  a  place  existed  he  knew,  and  that 
somewhere  within  the  land  he  would  find  his  family. 
This  he  confidently  and  emphatically  believed. 


264  BOND   AND   FREE. 

He  crossed  the  Susquehanna  river  and  entered  the 
city  of  H ,  where  he  found  employment  in  a  pri- 
vate family  as  coachman.  He  had  not  been  long 
employed  there  when  he  heard  of  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Law.  This  caused  him  to  become  restless,  and,  as  he 
had  confided  the  fact  of  his  being  a  fugitive  to  his 
employer  and  some  of  his  own  people,  he  feared  be- 
trayal. Not  knowing  of  the  tragic  death  of  Lillie,  he 
believed  that  he  would  be,  and  doubtless  had  been, 
pursued,  and  he  was  not  surprised  when  his  employer 
approached  him  and  told  him  that  it  was  too  danger- 
ous for  him  to  keep  him  longer  employed,  as  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Law  subjected  every  white  man  to  a 
heavy  fine  and  lengthy  imprisonment  for  harboring 
a  fugitive. 

He  had  also  learned  that  several  men  about  the 
town,  black  and  white,  drove  a  profitable  business  in 
kidnapping  and  betraying  slaves.  It  mattered  but 
little  whether  a  white  man  really  owned  a  black  man 
or  not;  if  he  swore  that  he  was  his  property,  and  the 
black  man  could  not  prove  he  was  not,  he  was  given 
up  by  the  courts  to  the  alleged  master,  and  returned 
South.  The  imminent  danger  he  was  in  was  aug- 
mented when  a  deliberate  attempt  was  made  to  kid- 
nap and  convey  him  South. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
UNITED  IN  FREEDOM. 

The  country  was  full  of  men  who  accepted  the  pro- 
visions of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act  as  a  means  by  which 
to  obtain  a  precarious  living,  by  taking  advantage  of 
its  defects.  The  bitter  prejudice  existing  against  the 
negro  in  every  section  of  the  country  aided  by  a  pos- 
sible pecuniary  gain,  was,  in  all  probability,  sufficient 
inducement  for  many  white  men  to  engage  in  the  ne- 
farious business  of  "nigger-catching"  and  kidnapping. 
But  just  what  would  induce  a  man  of  the  oppressed 
race  to  turn  traitor  against  his  brother,  and  engage  in 
such  disreputable  business,  would  be  hard  to  tell,  un- 
less it  were  due  to  his  being  so  morally  depraved  as 
to  lose  all  sense  of  the  ties  of  kindred  feeling  and 
sympath}'.  Let  it  be  from  whatever  cause  it  may, 
there  were  men  of  the  negro  race  who  actively  en- 
gaged in  the  business  of  betraying  and  kidnapping 
their  unfortunate  brethren. 

The  place  where  William  now  sought  refuge  con- 
tained a  number  of  these  characters,  the  most  promi- 
nent among  them  being  a  Jefferson  Coleman.  Cole- 
man  was  the  son  of  slave  parents  who  had  purchased 
their  freedom  and  moved  North,  where  he  was  born. 
He  was  given  a  common  education  under  the  disad- 
vantages that  people  of  the  race  secured  any  learn- 

[265] 


266  BOND   AND   FREE. 

ing  whatever ;  but,  upon  entering  into  manhood,  he 
showed  no  disposition  to  improve  upon  the  few  ad- 
vantages he  had.  He  migrated  from  place  to  place, 
earning  a  livelihood  at  whatever  employment  he  could 
find  to  do,  until  we  find  him  located  in  the  city  of 

H ,  where  he  had   resided   some  five  or  eight 

years,  long  enough  to  be  well  known  as  a  ne'er-do- 
well,  and  to  gain  a  reputation  for  engaging  in  ques- 
tionable transactions.  Coleman  had  reached  a  point 
when  the  conscience  becomes  so  hardened  as  to  make 
one  a  fitting  tool  for  the  carrying  out  of  the  deepest 
villainy  that  man  can  engage  in.  Being  a  dissolute 
and  reckless  person,  he  fell  a  ready  victim  to  the  de- 
signs of  the  "nigger-catchers."  After  having  en- 
gaged in  the  business  as  a  tool  for  other  men,  he  be- 
came far  more  dangerous  when  he  took  up  the  dual 
part  of  betrayer  and  kidnapper. 

Many  were  the  poor  souls  whose  freedom  was  sac- 
rificed by  this  man.  It  was  an  easy  matter  for  him  to 
obtain  the  confidence  of  persons  engaged  in  the  Under- 
ground Railroad,  and,  by  this  means,  instigate  the 
capture  of  whole  families.  He  was  a  man  of  rather 
pleasing  address,  his  complexion  a  bright  mulatto, 
hair  as  black  as  a  raven,  slightly  inclined  to  curl. 
His  mouth  was  rather  large,  while  his  lips  were  more 
like  those  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  than  the  African.  He 
had  been  made  to  swallow  two  of  his  front  teeth  by 
a  fugitive  slave,  whom  he  had  attacked  and  unsuc- 
cessfully attempted  to  capture.  This  loss  of  teeth 
disfigured  his  mouth,  and,  when  he  smiled,  rather 


UNITED   IN   FREEDOM.  267 

spoiled  his  otherwise  pleasing  appearance.  A  close 
observer  could  discern  traces  of  dissipation,  which 
would  have  shown  more  clearly  upon  a  man  of  a 
less  vigorous  constitution.  Colernan  was  ever  on  the 
alert,  and  from  the  time  he  first  discovered  William, 
he  selected  him  as  a  victim.  Notwithstanding  the 
many  warnings  he  had  received  to  beware  of  traitors, 
William  was  too  credulous  and  fell  easily  into  the 
net  which  Coleman  laid  for  him. 

When  informed  by  his  employer  that  he  must  find 
another  place,  he  did  not  seek  immediate  employ- 
ment, but  took  quarters  with  a  family  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town.  He  would  have  gone  away  at 
once,  but  he  somehow  suspected  that  he  was  watched, 
and  he  felt  that  to  start,  depending  upon  his  own 
efforts,  would  be  dangerous.  He  was  awaiting  an 
opportunity  to  find  trusty  friends  to  whom  he  could 
appeal  for  aid,  when  a  bold  attempt  was  made  by 
Coleman,  -assisted  by  confederates,  to  capture  him. 
Luckily,  however,  for  him,  unexpected  assistance 
prevented  his  capture  and  aided  him  in  getting  away. 

There  have  been  many  persons  who  have  sacrificed 
everything,  except  their  lives,  to  rescue  and  aid  fugi- 
tive slaves.  Many  a  band  of  noble-hearted  men,  of 
both  races,  was  formed  in  secret,  working  assiduously 
in  the  cause  of  freedom ;  and  their  deeds,  while,  per- 
haps, as  noble  as  those  of  a  Garrison  or  a  Phillips,  re- 
main unknown  to  the  world.  In  nearly  every  State  in 
the  North,  could  be  found  a  few  of  these  people,  and, 
though  their  deeds  remain  unsung,  the  prayers  of  a 


268  BOND   AND    FREE. 

grateful  race  have  been,  are  now,  and  ever  will  be 
sent  heavenward  that  they  may  enjoy  the  rich  reward 
merited.  - 

So  many  fugitives  had  been  attacked,  imprisoned, 
kidnapped,  and  returned  South  from  the  town  of 

H that  a  few  noble-hearted  negro  men  banded 

together  and  vowed  to  protect,  at  the  cost  of  their 
lives,  their  brethren  in  their  efforts  to  obtain  free- 
dom. A  large  amount  of  money  was  subscribed  to 
carry  their  determination  out,  and  they  fought  the 
Southern  slave-hunters  in  the  courts,  in  the  prisons, 
and  on  the  highways.  The  bloody  work  done  by 
these  organizations,  in  defense  of  freedom,  will  never 
be  known  until  judgment-day.  Many  a  kidnapper 
and  betrayer  was  beaten  and  driven  out  of  the  neigh- 
borhood by  this  little  band  of  heroes. 

Yet,  in  their  midst,  this  man,  Coleman,  existed, 
and  fearlessly  carried  on  his  nefarious  business.  It 
was  often  wondered  why  he  did  not  suffer  the  pen- 
alty others  had,  but  for  some  reason,  he  never  met 
the  fate  he  so  richly  deserved.  Coleman  learned 
where  William  was  quartered ;  he  had  found  a  man 
ready  to  claim  him  as  his  property,  and  he  deter- 
mined, after  fixing  the  sum  he  was  to  receive,  to  en- 
tice William  into  some  place  and  capture  him.  If 
this  failed,  then  an  effort  would  be  made  to  imprison 
him  and  use  the  courts,  and  make  him  prove  himself 
a  freeman,  the  latter  a  difficult  thing  to  do,  consider- 
ing how  far  a  negro's  word  went  against  a  white  man's. 

William   had    now    discreetly   assumed     another 


UNITED    IN    FREEDOM.  269 

name.  Passing  along  the  street  shortly  after  leaving 
his  recent  employer,  he  heard  his  assumed  name 
called.  Upon  looking  around,  he  beheld  Coleman 
approaching  him.  He  had  no  suspicion  of  the  man, 
as  his  attention  had  never  been  called  particularly 
to  him.  He  stopped,  and  Coleman  advanced,  extend- 
ing his  hand.  William  grasped  it,  as  the  fellow  said  : 

"  I  hear  that  you  are  left  out  of  work ;  are  you 
looking  for  a  job  ?  " 

"No,"  replied  William,  "but  I  might  take  one  if 
I  could  git  it" 

"  Then  you  are  the  very  man  I'm  looking  for.  I 
will  be  to  see  you  to-night,  and  take  you  to  a  man 
who  will  hire  you  and  pay  you  good  wages.  Will 
you  go?" 

"I  won't  promise,"  said  William,  "but  you  kin 
come,  and  I'll  see  the  man.  What's. he  want  me  for  ?  " 

"I  couldn't  just  say  what  he  wants  you  to  do,  but 
I  think  he  wants  a  man-servant  about  his  house ;  and 
now  that  I  see  you,  I  think  that  you  would  just  suit 
him.  What  time  will  you  be  home?" 

"Oh,  I'se  at  home  most  any  time  ;  but,"  said  Wil- 
liam, thoughtfully,  "  I  guess  you  doesn't  need  to  bring 
him  to  see  me  ;  tell  me  whar  to  find  him,  and  I'll  go 
see  him  to-morrow." 

"That  would  be  a  difficult  thing  to  do,"  lisped 
Coleman,  "because  he's  scarcely  ever  home  in  the 
day.  Suppose  I  see  him  and  come  up  to-night  and 
let  you  know  when  you  can  call  upon  him  ?" 


270  BOND   AND    FREE. 

"  That's  it  zactiy,  for  I'd  rather  go  see  him."  At 
this  they  shook  hands  and  separated. 

William  had  no  suspicion  about  Coleman,  until 
the  suggestion  was  made  to  bring  along  a  white  man, 
then  he  grew  suspicious.  He  did  not  want  the  man 
to  discover  that  he  suspected  him,  and  as  he  had 
already  consented  to  a  meeting,  he  would  not  with- 
draw his  consent.  He  did  not  know  but  that  the 
man  whom  Coleman  proposed  to  meet  was  a  Southern 
slave-owner,  who,  perhaps,  might  attempt  to  claim  him. 
Though  the  man  might  really  mean  to  obtain  for  him 
a  situation ;  and  if  so,  his  suspicions  were  groundless. 
He  concluded  to  say  nothing  to  any  one,  but  wended 
his  way  homeward. 

William  had  been  advised  by  friends  to  be  cau- 
tious, as  he  was  in  danger  of  being  arrested  at  any 
moment.  It  was  pretty  generally  known  that  he 
was  a  fugitive ;  and  to  be  a  fugitive,  at  that  time  and 
in  that  place,  was  to  be  constantly  menaced  with  dan- 
ger. He  had  also  been  advised  to  leave  the  place. 

The  people  with  whom  he  stopped  were  very  kind 
to  him  and  manifested  great  interest  in  him.  Martin 
Derry,  the  head  of  the  house,  was  one  of  the  most 
rabid  haters  of  the  institution  of  slavery.  He  had 
never  suffered  any  of  its  evils,  having  been  born  in 
the  North  and  always  free,  but  his  sympathy  for  his 
suffering  brethren  took  shape  in  active  measures  to 
aid  them  to  escape  wherever  and  whenever  he  could. 
His  house  had  been  an  asylum  for  many  a  fugitive, 
and  his  strong  arm  had  barred  the  door  against  the 


UNITED    IN    FREEDOM.  271 

intrusion  of  more  than  one  slave-hunter ;  he  was  fore- 
most among  the  little  band  of  men  who  fought  so 
nobly  against  these  Southern  intruders.  The  prison 
had  stared  him  in  the  face  more  than  once  for  his  ac- 
tivity in  behalf  of  fleeing  slaves ;  but  he  never  allowed 
his  vigilance  to  relax  or  his  interest  to  wane.  He 
had  sacrificed  money,  time,  and  blood,  and  his  zeal 
was  still  unabated. 

Upon  entering  the  house,  William  found  Mr.  Derry 
engaged  in  conversation  with  some  friends.  It 
was  just  about  twilight;  the  western  sky  was  em- 
blazoned in  a  bright,  crimson  tint,  and,  rising  as  if 
from  her  bed,  the  moon  could  be  seen  peeping  above 
the  eastern  horizon.  As  he  entered  the  room,  Mr. 
Derry  arose  and  introduced  him  to  his  friends,  then 
offering  him  a  chair,  he  said  : 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  ;  we  were  just  talking 
about  you,  and  we  have  a  proposition  to  make.  The 
town  is  full  of  slave-hunters,  and  they  are  in  search 
of  some  people  whom  we  have  concealed.  Several 
houses  have  been  searched,  and  some  captures  made. 
The  parties  we  have  in  charge  leave  here  to-night  by 
the  Underground  Railroad,  and,  as  you  believe  your 
wife  and  child  are  in  Canada,  now  is  your  chance 
to  go  and  find  them." 

One  of  the  other  men  said :  "  Yes,  they  have  got 
some  people  in  jail,  but  they  will  never  take  them 
from  this  town,  not  if  we  can  prevent  them.  There 
will  be  some  bloody  work  before  morning ;  won't 
there,  Derry  ?  " 


272  BOND    AND    FREE. 

"  There  will,  indeed  !  "  replied  Mr.  Deny.  "  Now, 
sir,"  turning  to  William,  "  will  you  take  passage  to- 
night ?  " 

"  You'se  very  kind,''  answered  William,  greatly 
moved  ;  "I  does  so  want  to  see  my  wife  and  chile, 
but— but—  " 

"  But  what  ?  "  asked  Deny. 

"But  I  ain't  got  nuf  money,  and  I  thought  to  go  to 
work  'til  I  got  more,"  said  the  man. 

"  Now  look  here,  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Derry,  with 
a  patronizing  air,  "  don't  you  think  about  fool  in' 
around  here  to  get  money.  If  you  do,  you'll  be  put 
where  you  won't  need  any.  You  can  do  as  you  please, 
but  I  advise  you  to  take  advantage  of  present  oppor- 
tunities and  leave." 

If  William  had  any  intention  of  disregarding  this 
advice,  the  events  of  the  next  hour  gave  him  the 
highest  estimation  of  its  utility. 

It  was  as  Derry  had  stated  ;  the  town  was  overrun 
with  slave-hunters.  They  had  assumed  every  privi- 
lege guaranteed  them  by  the  law,  and  had  rushed  to 
the  Northern  States  looking  for  their  lost  property, 
and  wherever  finding  it,  made  claim.  Eeturning 
South,  they  took,  in  many  instances,  that  which  was 
not  theirs  as  well  as  that  which  was.  The  houses  of 
people  were  ruthlessly  invaded  and  searched  from 
garret  to  cellar,  and  wherever  a  fugitive  was  con- 
cealed and  found,  the  rightful  occupants  were  made 
to  suffer  the  full  penalty  of  the  law. 

A  prominent  citizen,  who  had  in  his  employ  two 


UNITED    IN   FREEDOM.  273 

negro  women,  left  his  home  one  evening,  when  his 
wife  was  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  two  burly 
Southerners,  accompanied  by  Coleman,  in  search  of 
the  women.  She  begged  them  to  call  upon  her  hus- 
band's return,  and  assured  them  that  no  women  bear* 
ing  the  names  they  inquired  for  were  in  her  employ 
This  was  true  as  to  the  names,  but  the  women  were 
then  in  the  house.  After  much  persuasion,  they  left. 
One  of  the  women  then  took  her  flight,  while  the 
other  was  concealed  by  the  sons  of  the  lady  in  a 
large  cask  in  the  cellar,  several  tons  of  coal  being 
thrown  over  her.  Upon  the  return  of  the  husband, 
he  was  informed  that  the  slave-hunters  had  come  to 
search  the  house.  Being  in  a  prominent  position  in 
the  party  which  supported  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law, 
he  was  greatly  in  fear  of  exposure,  and  wanted  to 
give  the  poor  fugitive  up.  His  wife  and  children 
assured  him  there  was  no  danger,  and  he  finally  suc- 
cumbed. - 

True  to  their  duty,  the  slave-hunters  called  next 
day  and  searched  the  house  from  garret  to  cellar, 
tramping  several  times  upon  the  very  coal  pile  where 
the  woman  was  concealed.  Their  search  was  unsuc- 
cessful, and  they  left  without  even  so  much  as  apol- 
ogizing for  the  annoyance  they  had  caused.  The 
woman  was  conducted  to  a  place  of  safety  and  placed 
upon  a  boat  by  the  kind-hearted  sons  of  the  lady, 
thus  making  her  escape. 

It  was  now  quite  dark,  and  the  men  were  still 
sitting  in  the  room.  A  large  log  burned  slowly  in 

18 


274  BOND    AND    FREE. 

the  old-fashioned  fireplace,  now  and  then  casting  a 
lurid  gleam  of  light  upon  their  dusky  faces.  They 
were  awaiting  the  hour  that  they  were  to  meet  their 
comrades  and  lie  in  wait  to  recapture  the  party  of 
slaves  who  were  to  be  taken  South  that  night.  Wil- 
liam, notwithstanding  his  great  desire  to  see  his  wife 
and  child,  expressed  a  wish  to  accompany  them.  He 
said : 

"I  'spect  I'll  have  to  take  that  boat,  as  you  gen- 
tlemen disposes,  but  I'd  like  mighty  well  to  have  a 
hand  in  this  thing  to-night." 

"But,"  said  Derry,  "you  can't  go  with  us  and  take 
the  boat,  too ;  you  must  do  one  or  the  other;  besides, 
there  would  be  too  much  risk  in  taking  you  along." 

Derry  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words,  when  a 
rap  was  heard  at  the  door.  He  opened  it,  and  in 
stepped  Coleman.  Now,  here  was  a  man  of  all  others 
that  he  hated  the  very  sight  of.  That  he  was  up  to 
some  mischief,  he  was  certain,  and  he  was  determined 
to  prevent  his  further  entrance  into  the  house ;  there- 
fore, when  Coleman  stepped  in,  he  found  himself 
confronted  by  Derry,  who  checked  his  advance  and 
said  rather  imperatively : 

"What  do  you  want  here  ?  Hadn't  you  better  wait 
until  you're  invited  in  ?" 

"I  was  invited  here  to-day,"  said  Coleman.  "I 
came  to  see  the  man  that  stops  here  with  you." 

"Well,  you  can't  see  him,  for  he  ain't  here,"  was 
the  reply. 

"Ain't  here !    That's  strange,"  he  said,. as  he  tried 


UNITED    IN    FREEDOM.  275 

to  peer,  over  Berry's  shoulder  into  the  darkness  of 
the  inner  room. 

"Strange,  but  true,"  said  Deny,  not  moving  an 
inch. 

"  Will  he  be  back  soon,  do  you  think?" 

"  I  don't  think  and  I  don't  know  when  he  will  be 
back.  Look  here,  Jeff  Coleman,  what  is  your  busi- 
ness with  that  man  ?"  inquired  Deny.  And  he  tried 
to  push  him  toward  the  door.  "Are  you  up  to  some 
of  your  dirty  tricks  ?" 

Coleman  did  not  answer  the  last  remark,  but  turn- 
ing to  go,  he  said  :  "  I  believe  you  are  lying,  Deny, 
but  I'll  see  him,  for  he  promised  to  meet  me,  and  I 
believe  he  is  in  this  house,  too." 

"  You  can  believe  whatever  you  please,  you  con- 
temptible cur.  If  you  call  me  a  liar  in  my  house 
I'll  break  your  neck,"  and  as  he  said  this,  he  as- 
sisted Coleman  off  the  door-step  with  the  toe  of  his 
boot. 

Coleman  did  not  say  a  word,  but  hastily  disap- 
peared. Deny  returned  to  his  companions  and 
asked  William  if  he  had  made  an  appointment  with 
the  man.  He  told  them  that  he  had,  informing 
them  of  the  promised  situation,  and  that  he  was  to 
go  with  Coleman  to  see  a  gentleman  that  night. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  of  that  before?"  said 
Derry.  "We  shall  have  trouble  now;  they  will 
come  here  and  search  the  house,  and  we  must  leave 
at  once." 

Preparations  were  hastily  made,  and  the  men  left 


276  BOND   AND    FREE. 

the  house  together.  They  were  well  armed,  and 
every  man  was  determined.  William  summoned  all 
of  his  courage  and  determined  to  make  his  last  effort 
for  freedom.  It  was  to  be  freedom  or  death.  They 
had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance  from  the  house 
when  they  discovered  that  they  were  followed.  Deny 
was  the  first  to  notice  a  man  dogging  their  foot  steps, 
and  he  called  the  attention  of  his  companions  to  this 
fact.  They  did  not  care  so  much  about  it.  As  they 
were  in  a  thickly-populated  part  of  the  town,  they  ap- 
prehended no  danger.  Derry  suggested  that  one  of 
them  drop  back  as  soon  as  they  reached  the  far  end  of 
the  town  and  udo  the  spy  up."  The  man  delegated  to 
do  this  left  the  party  upon  reaching  a  corner,  and  by 
doing  some  pretty  good  running,  got  around  the 
square,  thus  getting  in  the  rear  of  the  spy.  He 
slowly  crept  upon  him  unawares,  and  with  a  short 
hickory  club  which  he  carried,  struck  the  fellow  a 
stunning  blow  upon  the  head,  felling  him  to  the 
ground  insensible.  The  other  men  had  no  difficulty 
in  reaching  the  point  they  had  in  view. 

When  Coleman  went  to  Derry's  house  for  William, 
a  plot  had  been  laid  by  which  William  was  to  be  in- 
duced to  go  to  a  certain  place  and  there  be  captured 
under  pretense  of  being  employed;  but  as  Coleman 
had  been  outwitted  by  Derry's  denying  that  he  was  in 
the  house,  he  determined  to  capture  William  at  all 
events.  When  he  left  Derry's,  he  directed  the  man 
who  accompanied  him,  but  whom  Derry  had  not 
seen,  to  keep  a  watch  on  the  house;  this  is  the  fel- 


UNITED    IN    FREEDOM.  277 

low  who  followed  them.  Coleman  proceeded  to  the 
town  and  procured  the  assistance  of  several  slave- 
hunters  and  loafers  to  return  and  search  the  house. 
By  the  time  he  got  his  party  together,  the  fellow  with 
the  broken  head  had  sought  them  out  and  informed 
them  of  his  misfortune.  Coleman  knew  about  where 
to  find  them,  and,  followed  by  his  colleagues,  he 
went  almost  directly  to  the  place  where  Derry  and 
his  friends  were  awaiting  the  arrival  of  another  party. 

The  slave-hunters  were  allowed  to  approach  the 
door,  which  was  opened  by  one  of  the  party  from 
within.  They  stated  that  they  were  in  search  of 
some  escaped  slaves  and  that  they  proposed  to  search 
the  house.  To  this,  the  man  who  had  opened  the 
door  objected,  and  stood  there  holding  the  door  with 
one  hand  and  denying  their  entrance.  Derry  stepped 
to  the  door,  saying : 

"Gentlemen,  we  don't  know  who  you  are  in  search 
of,  but  there  is  no  one  here  belonging  to  you ,  how- 
ever, if  you  insist  upon  searching  the  premises,  why, 
we  will  come  out  and  you  can  go  in."  As  he  finished 
speaking,  he  stepped  out  of  the  door,  followed  by 
William  and  the  other  men.  They  had  not  seen 
Coleman,  who  now  came  forward,  and,  approaching 
William,  attempted  to  lay  his  hands  upon  him  saying : 

" You're  the  man  we  want."  The  words  were 
hardly  out  of  his  mouth  before  William  struck  him 
fair  between  the  eyes,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground  as 
though  kicked  by  a  mule.  The  Southerners  now 
made  a  rush  for  him,  but  he  struck  out  right  and 


278  BOXD   AXD    FEEE. 

left,  and  men  fell  in  all  directions.  As  fast  as  Wil- 
liam knocked  them  down,  his  friends  proceeded  to 
club  them,  and  did  it  so  effectively  that  in  a  short 
time  there  was  not  a  man  able  to  make  the  least  ef- 
fort toward  capture.  William  went  directly  to  the 
boat,  which  was  to  take  him  farther  on,  and  he  was 
safely  stowed  away  in  the  hold.  Coleman  and  his 
companions  made  themselves  scarce  as  quickly  as 
they  recovered  consciousness.  The  beating  that  they 
received  that  night  was  long  remembered  by  them. 

The  boat  in  which  William  was  concealed  landed 
him  at  a  point,  whence  he  was  conducted,  on  another 
branch  of  the  Underground  Railroad,  directly  to 
Canada.  When  his  feet  touched  the,  shores  of  that 
land,  he  could  hardly  realize  it.  Joining  hands 
with  those  who  were  with  him,  with  bended  knees 
and  bowed  head,  he  sent  up  thanks  to  Heaven  for 
his  deliverance.  Now  that  he  was  in  a  free  land, 
his  first  thought  was  of  his  wife  and  child.  Were 
they  free  ?  or  had  he  left  slavery  only  to  be  disap- 
pointed in  not  finding  them  ?  He  would  not  hesitate 
to  return,  were  he  unsuccessful  in  his  search  for  them. 
He  had  but  little  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  country  he 
was  in,  nor  did  he  fully  realize  how  difficult  it  would 
be  for  him  to  find  them,  but  he  determined  to  ex- 
haust every  effort.  Poorly  equipped  as  he  was,  un- 
able to  read,  with  no  money,  and  in  a  strange  land, 
he  set  out  upon  a  search  for  the  wife  and  child,  who, 
for  all  he  knew  to  the  contrary,  were,  perhaps,  still 


UNITED   IN    FREEDOM.  279 

in  slavery.  Many  were  the  sleepless  nights  and 
weary  hours  he  spent  before  finding  them. 

Purcey  had  now  become  pretty  well  acquainted 
with  the  customs  of  the  people.  She  had  obtained 
employment,  and  herself  and  child  were  comfortably 
provided  for.  She  sent  communications  throughout 
the  Dominion,  which  were  read  in  the  churches  of  her 
people,  making  inquiries  for  William  and  stating 
where  she  could  be  found.  She  never  lost  faith  in 
her  belief  that  he  would  make  his  escape  and  come  to 
her.  Aided  by  this  confidence,  she  redoubled  her 
efforts  to  learn  of  him. 

William  sat  one  evening  before  a  fire  in  a  little  log 
hut,  which  he  had  selected  as  his  abode,  on  the  out- 
skirts of  a  thriving  little  town.  He  had  been  meditat- 
ing for  some  moments  upon  the  advisability  of  chang- 
ing his  quarters.  No  place  presented  any  attractions 
to  him  as  he  traveled  here  and  there  in  hope  of  find- 
ing those  whom  he  sought  So  short  a  time  did  he 
remain  at  a  place  that  it  was  almost  impossible  for 
him  to  learn  anything  of  importance.  Entering  a 
town,  he  would  make  inquiry  for  his  dear  ones,  and, 
receiving  no  information,  sick  at  heart,  and  almost 
discouraged,  he  would  proceed  to  the  next  town.  He 
had  always  been  a  constant  attendant  at  church,  and 
he  possessed  much  of  that  reverence  and  piety  com- 
mon to  his  race.  He  had  great  confidence  in  the  Gos- 
pel, and  much  veneration  for  the  ministry.  The 
next  day  was  Sunday,  and  he  concluded  that,  per- 
haps, his  sad  and  heavy  heart  might  be  lightened  by 


280  BOND  AND   FREE. 

hearing  a  good  sermon.  The  following  day  he  at- 
tended divine  services  in  the  little  village,  and  after 
the  preacher  had  preached  a  fervid  sermon,  during 
which  there  were  many  cries  of  u  Amen  !"  and  "  Halle- 
lujah !"  and  in  which  William  joined  heartily,  he  made 
an  announcement  from  the  pulpit  which  caused  Wil- 
liam to  leap  up  from  his  seat  with  joy.  This  was 
the  notice: 

Any  person  who  can  give  any  information  regarding  Wil- 
liam McCullar,  of Co,,  Va.,  owned  by  Jonathan  Max- 
well, will  confer  a  blessing  and  everlasting  favor  upon  his  wife 

and  child,  now  residing  in  H . 

Address, 

PURCEY  McCuLLAR. 

To  attempt  a  description  of  the  man's  actions  when 
this  was  read,  would  end  in  simple  failure.  Leaping 
over  the  seats,  he  rushed  up  to  the  minister,  crying : 

"  Bead  that  again !     Head  that  agin !  " 

When  he  had  finished  reading  the  second  time, 
William  rushed  upon  him,  clasped  his  arms  about 
him,  shouting  and  crying  out : 

"That's  me!  that's  my  wife!  Glory!  Glory  be  to 
the  Lord!" 

It  was  not  many  hours  before  he  had  his  wife  and 
child  clasped  within  his  embrace,  and  without  attempt- 
ing to  describe  the  heart-touching  scene  that  followed 
such  a  reunion  of  the  long  separated  pair,  let  us  draw 
the  curtain  upon  the  happiness  of  those  once  Bond 
but  now  Free. 

THE    END. 


•/ 


